Second Chance Year
by Spacefille
Summary: Set after the war. Harry tries to make amends with Draco, Draco is suspicious, Harry perseveres and something unexpected happens. Harry/Draco.
1. Amends

Author: Spacefille

Author's Notes: My take on Harry/Draco post Deathly Hallows. Everyone's done it, I don't really care, here's mine. This fic is in progress and will be a long one.

Pairings: Harry/Draco. Mention of Hermione/Ron.

….

The Second Chance Year

….

1. Amends

….

The first week was a flurry of high strung emotions, funerals and arrangements, rows, and news paper interviews that by the end of it Harry was fairly sure he had permanent black circles under his eyes from exhaustion. He had admittedly forgotten about the Malfoys completely during that time. The day after Voldemort had been killed Kingsley had told him that all surviving Death Eaters and suspected Death Eaters were being held in Azkaban for questioning and eventual sentencing, and had made a passing remark that the Malfoys had been taken in as well. Harry had felt guilty for a second, knowing what Narcissa Malfoy had done to save his life, but Kingsley had shook his head, saying that they'd talk later. Then another wave of reporters swamped him and he quickly found had other things to think about.

Frankly, he never wanted to think about the Malfoys again, to be honest, no matter how helpful they had been. He was having a hard enough time dealing with all the attention to think about anything else, really, including the fact that he was now a "father" to a child he had yet to meet.

It was only when the owl came for him that he realized that due process included courts and all such things, and, according to the letter at least, the Malfoys were awaiting trial. The letter then asked if he would come to the Ministry the next day and be a witness.

"Oh. Right," Harry muttered, half to himself, as he finished read the summoning. Ron had glanced over his shoulder to see what Harry was reading, and then stepped around to look at him.

"Witness?" he questioned incredulously. "For the Malfoys? You can't seriously…"

Harry gave him a look, stilling his rant before it could really get going. "I told you already Ron," he replied. "If it hadn't been for Malfoy's mother I wouldn't be standing here right now," he felt like he was a record on repeat, he had told Ron that already, he was sure of it.

Ron sat back with a pout and a glare, arms folded across his chest, hatred glittering in his eyes for the multiple offenses that Draco had wrought, past, recently, and possibly future. He was still bitter about having to save Draco's life. Twice. He had mentioned it a couple times since the battle, mostly when he had spent too much time thinking about Fred and how bloody unfair everything was. Harry really didn't want to get into this again, especially since he had spent a great deal of the last week swaying between numb acceptance and anger himself whenever he thought about everyone he had lost.

"They don't deserve it," Ron pointed out, thankfully keeping it simple and to the point.

"Yeah, well," Harry replied wearily as he folded up the letter. "That's not up to you, Ron," at the same time a thought ran through his head, one that he didn't like too much. If all of Malfoy's were in Azkaban, Draco had just spent the entire week in a cold, damp cell. He glowered and stuffed the letter in his pocket. Draco hadn't identified him back during the Easter break… he didn't deserve to be in there any more than his mother, who hadn't given him away to Voldemort.

Granted, if someone had told him four months before that he'd owe his life and outcome of the war to the Malfoys he would have laughed in their face.

To be fair, if someone told him he'd be a teenage father four months ago he would have laughed in their faces about that too, based completely on the fact that he had yet to experience anything that would lead to such things.

The world worked in mysterious, somewhat frightening, and often annoying ways.

.

The trial went better than Harry anticipated. He felt a somewhat expected sensation of rage when he first caught a glimpse of Lucius, standing next to his wife in the center of the court. The rage melted into something close to pity when he saw how tired they both looked. It had been a long week for them, he was sure. Not as long as his own, mind you, but long enough. Both held their heads high, of course they did, but Harry could see through it and he was sure others could too.

When he didn't see was Draco and he scanned the room for him. He was a bit surprised when he spotted him. He was not where he'd expect those being tried to be seated, but rather in the stands. His face was white, and he looked like he was straining not to show any emotion. He also looked like he was about to faint. Harry wondered why Draco wasn't on trial as well, the letter had said…

"Released already," a member of the Ministry Harry didn't know said as he walked by, catching where Harry was looking. The same man handed Harry a scroll. "They decided to let 'em go because of his age. 'Unlawful coercion of an underage wizard'," he snorted at that. "Ridiculous, if you ask me, the kid is just as guilty as the parents."

No one had asked him and Harry rewarded him with a tired glare. Apparently this man had missed a notice somewhere. Goodness knows he had had to explain every detail of his escape from the Dark Lord often enough in the last week. "Thank you," he said instead, politely, as he took the scroll from the man.

Draco wouldn't look at him as he took to the stand to give his testimony. The only time he did look at Harry was when he told the entire court of what his mother had done to save his life and the reason why she had done it. Harry caught his startled gaze and held it for a moment. Had his mother not told him? Maybe not… or maybe she did and Draco didn't expect Harry to defend his mother.

The rest of the proceedings went smoothly enough, especially when both of the elder Malfoys confessed under a truth serum that they felt no allegiance to the Dark Lord during the last year and would have escaped if they had a way to do so without risking their own lives and the life of their son. Harry was a bit surprised at that, he was sure Lucius had been hundred percent loyal to the Dark Lord right until the end.

He also wondered why he was even there in the first place if they were going to use potions to get answers out of them. Then he remembered hearing or reading somewhere that there were counter spells and especially powerful wizards may be able to fight the effects of the potion. Hermione would know, he decided. He also decided he didn't care enough to ask her. He would have liked very much to go home and sleep, since it had been over a week… well actually if he thought about it, it was closer to a year since he got a good night of that.

When questioning was done the wizards and witches overseeing the trial went on for a bit about what could be forgivable and whether breaking their alliance with the Dark Lord at the last minute really could make up for the rest of their transgressions. Then, after Harry had grown bored of listening he went back to studying Draco, who was very obviously avoiding looking at him at all costs, they turned to ask for his opinion.

Suddenly he had fifty plus pairs of eyes staring at him. Harry blinked at that. Oh. So that was why he was here.

He shuffled about uncomfortably, unsure of what to say and a bit angry he was even being placed in this situation in the first place. He hadn't been asked to be at any other trial. Why just this one? He finally cleared his throat and came out with a very decisive "I don't know."

Well, that got Draco to glare at him. "I don't think they can do any harm," he amended quickly. It was true. "I don't think they attacked anyone last week. They were looking for Malfoy. Draco." He corrected. He shook his head quickly. "Ask… well anyone who was there. Anyone else. I was a bit busy," he tried not to sound too irritated and felt he had failed somewhat. He also chose kept his mouth shut about how Lucius was so eager to turn him in to the Dark Lord only months before that, when he had been captured by Greyback. He wasn't sure why he did, beyond the fact that he knew he was right about them not doing much harm at this point. If either of them started waving around dark magic at this point they'd pretty much be guaranteeing themselves a one way ticket back to Azkaban.

Now Draco was studying him intently as the rest of the ministers went back to debating. Harry looked back at him and held his gaze, and it was Draco who looked away first.

By the end of it all Harry was fighting off sleep, and Kingsley stood to declare that the Malfoy's were free to go under certain conditions, which included checking back with the ministry at regular intervals and so on and so forth, Harry didn't really pay all that much attention to the rest.

The Malfoys turn to leave, barely showing emotion beyond tight smiles of relief. Harry watched them go. He hadn't been much for detail, that was always Hermione's job, but the last year had helped that along. There was no embracing to be had as they approached Draco… his father nodded at him once and Draco nodded back in acknowledgement. He felt another annoying flash of pity and a bit of irritation that they couldn't at least look a little bit happy to see each other. It was only when Narcissa held out her arm and placed it around her son's shoulders that Harry let out a breath that he hadn't been aware he was holding.

.

It was good to have friends, outstanding actually, but by the end of the second week Harry was desperately in need of alone time. Or alone time with Ginny, but for some reason whenever he tried to spend more than a couple minutes with her she'd suddenly have something she really needed to go do, or someone would come and interrupt them. Usually the first one and Harry had no idea why. So he found himself tired, frustrated, and was starting to get snappish at anyone who came near him who wasn't Ginny… who wasn't coming near him at all.

It was about then that he remembered that he owned a house. The next day he packed his trunk, wished the Weasleys a fond farewell, and left for the Black Manor.

He had only been there less than a day later when an owl tapped on the glass of the library window. Harry glared at it briefly as he had been taking a well deserved nap in an oversized chair before it appeared. When the owl didn't go away, which he didn't really expect it to, he sighed and got up to go let it in.

It was, unexpectedly, from Hogwarts. From McGonagall. Harry groaned as he read it. The letter was warm and inviting, apologizing for the fact that the school was closed for the summer, leaving the students without a chance to finish their studies. The letter continued to ask if he wouldn't like to return to school in the fall to finish summer term? In fact, it said, having some of the old students there again would help the new first years feel comfortable and accepted. Harry read until the end, then tossed the letter aside with a sigh. Didn't saving the entire wizarding world from dark evil grant him a "get out of school free" card? Kind of like a congratulations, you're an adult now that you've saved the world? Not to mention the fact that this'd be his eighth year of school?

No, of course not. He made a face.

Harry then wondered how the school was going to be reopened in the fall anyway, seeing as it had come close to burning to the ground completely only weeks before, and had lost Professors in battle. Snape was gone…

He surprised himself at the stab of pain that caused, then realized what he was feeling was guilt. He pushed that feeling away with irritation and got to his feet. A lot more people than Snape had died, he just felt guilty that he had hated Snape until after he died. Still hated him a bit, but that wasn't the point.

He began to pace, wondering what his friends were going to do. That answer was easy enough, Hermione would be all over a chance to go back and finish school and Ron was going to go wherever she went. Which meant Harry would have to go to. Harry made another face and clenched his wand…

His wand.

Oh.

That made another, completely unrelated issue come to mind. He had forgotten it during the last two weeks…

He left the library and made his way upstairs to Sirius'… or rather his room. He pulled out his trunk and rummaged through it until he found what he was looking for. He brought out a wad of cloth, and unwrapped to reveal two wands, the Elder wand and a hawthorn wand.

Well, he knew what to do with the Elder wand, he just hadn't had a chance to get around to hiding it yet. As for the other wand…

Harry signed turned it over in his hands a couple times. He was tempted to keep it, it had, after all, been the wand that had killed Voldemort. Sort of. Well, it helped rebound a curse. Either way, this wand knew him, and recognized him as its master.

But then, really, Harry thought, he didn't need another wand. His wand worked great now that he had been able to knit it back together with the Elder wand's power. He didn't need to keep something that he had taken by force from someone else - a someone who would probably want it back. Draco was an irritating prat, true, but even so he knew that if the other boy had taken his wand he would have liked it back.

He sighed and got to his feet, turning Malfoy's wand over in his hands a few more times before deciding.

.

He half expected that Malfoy wouldn't come. He wasn't sure he would have come either, even with the promise of getting his wand back. If he was Malfoy, he'd be spending this week, and the next and probably the next after that staying in with his parents now that his house was safe and…

Harry shuddered at that thought. No, not really safe. He remembered, though he really didn't want to, the abuse that Voldemort had put that family through in that house. An especially bad memory of the Dark Lord backing Draco into a corner until he cowered, shaking in fear for his life made his stomach turn. He doubted any of the Malfoys would feel safe in their house for a quite a while.

Either way, he supposed it wasn't that surprising when Malfoy did show.

The wards told Harry he was there the moment he apparated in front of the Black Manor, even though Harry had already been at the window, watching below. There was no mistaking the blond head as Draco squared his shoulders and eyed the house up and down before stepping towards it. When he reached the front door Harry realized he should be downstairs instead of upstairs and headed down to let him in.

When he opened the door all they did was stare at each other for a long moment. Then the corner of Malfoy's mouth curved up into what may have been a smirk but ended up just looking like a grimace. "Well, Potter?" he said. "Are you going to invite me in or just stand there like an idiot?"

Harry snapped shut a jaw he hadn't realized was open and stepped aside. "Come in," he said coolly.

Malfoy raised an eyebrow at him and walked into the house. Harry shut the door behind him.

Now he stood in the front hall, inspecting Malfoy as he looked around with what appeared to be mild distaste. When the blond haired boy turned back around to look at Harry, Harry suddenly remembered he should probably be acting like a host and not just standing around staring. "Um, this way," he said, half expecting Draco to not follow him as he led him to the drawing room. He did and once in the room Draco sat down on one of the ornate Victorian chairs. Now they had another staring moment, and Draco began to tap his fingers on the arm rest impatiently.

"Right," Harry said, clearing his throat. "Tea?" he offered.

Now Draco was giving him a look like he was mad. "I'd rather just have my wand, Potter," he replied. "If it's not TOO much trouble." The familiar drawling mocking tone in his voice was obvious and Harry's reaction was nearly instantaneous.

"Hey," he snapped, jabbing a finger in Draco's direction. He wondered why he had even bothered trying to be nice to Malfoy. Obviously it was a mistake, he hadn't changed one bit. "Listen," Harry bit out from between clenched teeth. "You *owe* me-"

Malfoy froze. Completely, shock crossing his face for a moment. His eyes narrowed into slits, inspecting Harry coldly. Harry felt his temper melt away as fast as it had come. Instead a low churning shame decided to replace it. He shouldn't have said that… the look on Malfoy's face said as much.

"And what would you have me do?" Malfoy asked, his voice low. Disgust warred with anger on his face, but not the type of anger he was used to, not from Malfoy at least. Harry could only stare as the other young man got to feet. "Grovel at your feet maybe? Sing you praises? Oh the great Harry Potter, thank you _so much_." Harry nearly took a step back almost despite himself in response to the absolute loathing on his face.

"That," he managed to get out when his mouth decided to start working again. "No!" he protested. "I don't want anything from you _Malfoy_," he regained his footing and glared back at him.

"But I _owe _you, remember?" Draco returned, his voice low and taunting.

"Forget it," Harry returned, wondering where, exactly, he had lost control of this conversation. He drew in a deep breath. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen. He had saved Malfoy's life and helped out his parents, so he supposed he expected some gratitude at least, not all out animosity.

"I suppose I should thank you for the scars as well, perhaps," Malfoy added, his voice very nearly conversational now.

Harry's jaw dropped again, growing pale as he realized what Malfoy was referring to. "I can't believe…" he sputtered.

"That's your problem isn't it, Potter?" Malfoy said, his eyes now almost appraising as he looked him up and down. "You were unbearable before, and I imagine you'll be even worse now, especially now that HE'S gone," his lip curled at that last bit. "Harry Potter, champion of the people. Savior of the world. Everyone's hero. THANK YOU, Potter. That's what you want isn't it? Praise and adoration! Fame and fortune! And what's even worse, you'll think you DESERVE it."

"Shut up!" Harry snapped, his face white.

Apparently he wasn't done yet. Malfoy's hands balled into fists. "How many people died?" he snarled. "How many people were you unable to save? How many people SUFFERED because of YOU?"

He hit him. He didn't mean to, he just wanted him to stop, but one moment Draco was yelling at him, and the next he was on the ground, eyes wide as he stared up and him, a hand to his face. Harry saw fear crawling in his eyes before he realized he had his wand pointed right at him.

Harry's chest heaved as he tried to get his breathing under control. Draco continued to stare at him long enough to realize Harry wasn't going to curse him and slowly rolled his head to the side.

"Did I hurt you, Potter?" he asked in a low taunting voice. The anger in his eyes was still there but now it was much more subdued. He shut his eyes then opened them again, inspecting him quietly and said no more.

Harry drew in another deep breath, then another, and shoved his wand back into his robes. He leaned over and thrust his hand out to help Draco up.

"Don't touch me," Draco said, looking irritated as he pushing his hand away. Harry shrugged and stepped back, watching as he helped himself to his feet. Draco staggered slightly then straightened as if to regain some of his pride, brushed himself off, and sat back down in the chair very deliberately.

For some reason the entire action hit Harry as funny. His snort of laughter surprised even himself.

Draco glared, then wiped his mouth on the back of his sleeve. "Glad you find attacking someone without a wand funny, Potter," he spat, inspecting his sleeve as if to check for blood. There wasn't any.

"You just…" Harry coughed. "Sorry," he added, covering his mouth. He cleared his throat when he thought he could contain himself. Draco eyed him.

"Do you feel better?" Harry asked.

Draco made a disgusted sound. "No, Potter, I'll feel better when I'm out of here and never have to see your disgusting face ever again," he replied.

"The feeling is mutual, Malfoy," Harry retorted. Draco snorted and looked away.

Now Harry didn't know what to say. He expected more argument. He stood there and just looked at him until Draco turned back him with a frown. "Well?" he said. "Weren't you going to get my wand?"

"…Right," Harry shook his head, contemplated saying something more, then turned abruptly and headed for the stairs. That could have gone better, he thought to himself as he climbed them. Then he considered. It could have gone worse, too.

Well, at least he hadn't killed him. That was good. Right?

.

Malfoy looked bored when Harry got back downstairs, holding the hawthorn wand tightly in his hand.

He gave Draco a warily look before holding it out to him. The other boy merely got to his feet, took the wand from his hand and proceeded to inspect it carefully. Harry rolled his eyes. "I didn't curse it," he said.

Malfoy sniffed, gave the wand a once more looking over then flicked it a couple times to make sparks fly out of the tip (Harry's hand went for his own wand as a precaution). However Malfoy did nothing more with it and slipped the wand into his robes. He turned and strode towards the door.

"Wait," Harry called out after him, almost despite himself.

Draco turned back, with his hand on the doorknob, his eyebrow raised and expression of distain back on his face. "What is it, Potter?"

Harry found himself caught. He really didn't know why he had called out actually… well beyond the fact that he expected a thank you at very least. "Are you going back to Hogwart's in the fall?" he asked finally feeling awkward.

Malfoy studied him. "Why do you care?" he asked suspiciously.

"I don't," Harry replied lamely. "Just asking. Are you?"

Draco merely looked him over once more, sneered at him, then turned and left, shutting the door firmly behind himself.

"Fine, don't answer," Harry muttered.

He spent the rest of the day in a foul mood, and it was all because of Malfoy.

…


	2. School

…

2. School

…

After spending a few more days sulking about the Black house, Harry decided it was time to go meet his godson.

The child, of course, was adorable, with brown eyes like his father and ever changing hair color like his mother. He ached when he saw him, an odd happy sad feeling, knowing that two of his friends were gone permanently and only this small, red faced, crying thing remained. Harry pushed his feelings aside and decided to make a go of being a father, at least until September. Because of that he learnt a great deal about dirty diapers (thankfully there was a spell for that), and how to take care of a baby (don't drop him).

During the last two months of summer he divided his time between visiting the Weasleys and Andromeda Tonk's house, trying his best to keep busy. Keeping busy kept his mind off of things, there were an extraordinary lot of things he found himself thinking about, and nearly none of them were pleasant. He would get into moods, considering the friends he had lost, his godson… the fact that he hadn't been able to get a chance to talk to Ginny recently. Lucky for him, when he spent too much time in Mrs. Tonk's immaculate sitting room gazing out the window, the older witch would let out a huff of frustration and thrust Teddy into his arms. She'd then proclaim that she was going shopping to pick up supplies and apparate away, leaving Harry alone with the baby.

Panicking over a squalling baby was more than than enough to keep Harry's mind occupied. The first time he even had to floo Hermione over to help because he had no idea what to do.

By the time September came Harry was glad that baby Teddy had somehow survived his ministrations and attempts at childcare, proving that babies were perhaps more resilient than he had previously thought.

.

"We shouldn't be here," Harry muttered for not the first time since they boarded Hogwart's Express that morning. He felt out of sorts and ill at ease, and it had been a more than trying day already. Random people he didn't know had come up to him to give him hugs or pats him on the back, and other random people had glared at him from a distance as if he had ruined their lives. Which he probably had.

And he thought he was famous before killing Voldemort…

Hermione shot him a look from across the table. "Of course we should be here," she said. "Stop saying that."

Neville looked up from his plate. "I'd like to graduate so that I can become an Auror," he offered. He looked confused for a moment. "I thought you wanted that too, Harry?"

Harry made a face and shrugged. "I. Well, maybe…" he began and Hermione kicked him from underneath the table. "Yes!" Harry said with much more enthusiasm. "That's why I'm here." He avoided Hermione's glare and the way Ron stared at him like he was nuts.

He wasn't going to win this one, no matter how he felt about being a year older than any other Hogwart's graduate in history. Well, beyond the rest of his returning class… well okay the next seven years of graduates as well. But really, spending last year in a tent had completely taken his mind off of any sort of academia. Being back at Hogwarts brought home the fact that he felt doing something as trivial as school work didn't really matter in the grand scheme of things…

Convincing Hermione of that would be futile. She was going to stay until the bitter end and make it through the entire year, Harry had no doubt about that. And if Hermoine was doing it, he would have to as well, there was no point in even bringing it up. If he did he had no doubt she'd guilt trip him by reminding him who, exactly, had stayed by his side all winter long last year…

He sighed to himself and let his mind drift as McGonagall got up to address the students. He looked out over the great hall as she spoke. There were so many empty spaces now, and that hit him with an unexpected jolt. The Professor's table was missing teachers. Harry let his eyes slide over where Snape would have been sitting, to continue skimming down the house tables. All of the students were subdued, even the first years.

Of course they were quiet, Harry thought to himself, it had been too soon. Three or four months wasn't nearly enough time to forget a dead parent or sibling, some of which had died in this very room. And everyone here had lost someone, in some cases more than one. Classmates… Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw… both tables were missing people, especially among the older students, though admittedly not as much as the Gryffindor table. The abundant empty spaces at the Slytherin table were the most surprising though. Pansy was missing, so were a couple other classmates from his own year. Harry supposed it was because those parents were reluctant to send their children back to school. Since most of them came from well off wizarding families he supposed they either decided to finish their schooling with tutors or in one of the other European schools.

It did make him wonder why, exactly, Malfoy had come back to Hogwarts after all, as his gaze settled on the blond haired boy sitting at the far end of the table. He stared at him for a bit, considering.

It struck him as he watched him, how perfectly odd it seemed to see him there. Of all the people he hadn't expected to get out of the war alive, minus himself of course, was Malfoy. He had been so deeply mired in all of this… nearly as much as Harry had been, if not more…

Almost as if sensing his gaze, Malfoy looked up, eyes locking with Harry's. He held it for a moment, and the expression on Draco's face seemed more curious than anything. Then, almost as if remembering himself, Draco's lip curled and he sneered at him. Harry flushed without even knowing why and looked away quickly, then wondered at his reaction. Two years ago he would have returned Malfoy's ugly look without a thought. He cleared his throat a bit self consciously and made an effort to concentrate on the rest of McGonagall's speech.

He sat through the Sorting Hat too, utterly bored and wondering yet again why he was being forced to endure this. He found his eyes roaming the great hall once again. For some reason he found his gaze drawn back to Malfoy. He supposed it was to see if he'd still be sneering at him. But no, Malfoy, for his part, studiously did not look at Harry, and instead kept his gaze pinned directly on the professor's table.

What he didn't expect was for Professor McGonagall to stand again, and while dismissing everyone else, ask that three of the students to stay behind and meet with her.

Those students were himself, Hermione… and he half expected McGonagall to say Ron as well and briefly wondered how on earth they had managed to get in trouble *already*. But when Professor McGonagall said Draco Malfoy, Harry's jaw dropped open with shock and he whipped his head around to stare at the other boy.

Draco had his gaze focused on McGonagall and did not look at Harry. Harry looked back at Ron and Hermione, his mouth still open. "What did we do?" he asked. "I haven't gone anywhere near Malfoy yet, did either of you-"

"No," Hermione rolled her eyes and got to her feet. "I'm sure it's nothing," she added. "See you back at the tower Ron?" she asked.

Ron smiled, or at least attempted to, and gave her a hug. "Yeah," he said. He shot a glare over at Malfoy before heading off.

No, this definitely wasn't usual, Harry decided, as McGonagall asked Professor Slughorn to stay as well. Harry sat down one table over from Draco, Hermione on his other side and waited to see what this was about.

McGonagall gave them all a long look over the top of her spectacles before she steepled her fingers in front of her. "As you well know, we happen to be a bit short on staff this year. With the rest of the Ministry focused on rebuilding, they are unable to spare us any new professors and have suggested a, shall we say, unconventional solution," She waited as Harry exchanged glances with Hermione, then continued.

"Professor Slughorn here has agreed to allow his attentions to be split between the Defense against the Dark Arts class and the Potions class. However he is unable to do both classes alone. It has been suggested," she cleared her throat. "That two exemplary students in both fields be asked to help teach the younger students on these subjects, leaving the good Professor free to teach the older ones and prepare them for graduation." She stopped and pinned Harry with a sharp look and then Draco in turn. "That would be you Mr. Potter, and you Mr. Malfoy."

Harry's mouth fell open again. He turned to look at Draco, but Draco had a fairly impassive look on his face, maybe even slightly bored. 'He knew!' Harry thought in his head. Of course he knew, Harry thought a moment later. It explained why Malfoy was here in the first place, if McGonagall had sent an owl asking him to come back to help at the school at the same time that Harry had gotten his…

Harry shook his head and turned back to the Headmistress. "Professor," he began. "I don't think I'm qualified…"

"Nonsense," McGonagall interrupted him. "You have had more than enough practical experience with the Dark Arts to teach the younger students Mr. Potter. As do you Mr. Malfoy." Harry shut his mouth and felt a bit of anger flare up at that, which he wisely kept to himself. He didn't CHOOSE to do any of that. He had to out of necessity, because of the war…

"And your marks in potions were exceptional during your sixth year," McGonagall continued. Now Harry exchanged slightly uncomfortable looks with Hermione. "As were yours Mr. Malfoy," she added. "You are both perfect choices to assist us with the teaching of these two classes."

"Wait," Harry said as something occurred to him. He looked up, confused. "Which of us do you want to help teach Potions and which of us do you want to help with Dark Arts?"

Now the Professor pinned him with an assessing look. "That will be up to you and Mr. Malfoy to decide," she replied. Harry looked at Malfoy in horror despite himself and that earned him a cold glare back. Harry nearly groaned out loud. Great. He fully remembered the last time he had to talk to Malfoy for any amount of time and how it had ended in an argument. "But… but what about our own classes?" he tried to protest.

McGonagall nodded, as if she expected the question. "It will have to be around your own class schedules of course, but we will consider this a practicum of sorts. It will count towards your final marks."

"I'll be here to help you create class assignments and schedule the times," Professor Slughorn added, bobbing his head eagerly.

"And you Miss. Granger," McGonagall continued, turning her head towards Hermione before Harry could protest more. "I'm sure by now you've noticed that Ms. Charity Burbage is no longer with us," Harry didn't miss the small choked sound Draco made and turned his head to look at him again, his eyes narrowed. Draco didn't look up, but inspected his hands and it struck Harry that Draco knew what, exactly, had happened to the Professor. Harry could figure it out himself… Voldemort had probably killed her. Heck, it was possible that Voldemort made Draco kill her, though he was fairly sure Malfoy didn't have the stomach for it unless his own life was in immediate danger. He made a bit of a face and decided that he really didn't want to know. Thinking about it or blaming Malfoy wasn't going to bring her back. "And we are lacking a teacher to provide us Muggle studies lessons." McGonagall continued. "We have asked Mr. Author Weasley come in on a part time basis to teach that class, but he requires an assistant. We are wondering if you would be willing to assist Mr. Weasley."

Hermione bobbed her head. "Of course Professor," she said with a lot more enthusiasm than Harry.

McGonagall clasped her hands together. "Good," she replied, looking as pleased as Professor McGonagall ever got, which was not very. "You are dismissed."

Harry was going to try to catch Draco on the way out, to ask if he had any idea how they were going to do this, but Draco had already beaten them out the door and didn't look like he was very inclined to slow down and turn back. Harry sighed and didn't call out to him. He'd ask Professor Slughorn tomorrow what he expected him to do instead.

.

Sure enough they met with Slughorn bright and early on their second day back to school. Slughorn was the one that decided that Malfoy was going to teach first and second year Potions and Harry was to teach the first and second year Dark Arts. He didn't even have to talk to Draco if he didn't want to. Draco nodded stiffly when Slughorn asked if the schedule was okay with him, his face expressionless.

When they left Slughorn's office, Harry stopped in the hallway. "Hey," he called out.

Draco paused and turned, his face still blank as he looked at Harry. It was at that moment that Harry realized he didn't know what he was going to say. Again. He felt he should say something but nothing came. So instead he opened his mouth and closed it again. "I… I'll see you in class?" he offered.

Draco looked wholly unimpressed. But, instead of letting off a string of condescending insults like Harry expected, the other boy just turned and walked away.

Also again.

.

It took Harry a couple days to clue in, but Malfoy sat alone at the Slytherin table. He was at least one seat over from Goyle and none of the other Slytherin students seemed to speak to him during mealtimes. Harry wondered at that, until he caught wind of it from a grinning Ron that even the Slytherins hated Malfoy now.

When Harry looked surprised, Ron continued, leaning in towards Harry as he shared what he had heard with glee. Half of the Slytherin's, he said, had parents that had either been killed or banished to Azkaban, but Malfoy parents had both lived and escaped Azkaban. The other half of the Slytherins were not on the Dark Lord's side and hated Malfoy because he was a former Death Eater himself and Death Eaters had been responsible for the deaths of relatives, "blood traitors" and the like. Why Goyle, once entirely faithful, seemed to have distanced himself from Malfoy, Ron didn't know if it was because of Crabbe's death or because Goyle's parents were in prison. It may have been both.

Draco didn't seem to mind, eating by himself. In fact from a distance Draco seemed to be handling it very well, but Harry couldn't help but to feel a bit sorry for him. He remembered what Mrytle had said during their sixth year, about how Draco was lonely. If being ignored by all of his old friends wasn't enough to make the other boy feel alone Harry didn't know what would.

Harry had other things to worry about though, beyond Draco. Like teaching the classes. The first and second years were rowdy and tended to not listen to him very well. He had eventually threatened to fail them all in the class and owl home to their parents, and that seemed to scare them into semi-obedience. He was lying of course, but they didn't need to know that. He grimly set about explaining some of the easier counter spells to the children, even though he hoped very much they'd never have to worry about using any of them.

.

The days turned into a week, then two. Life started to get routine again, which is to say life was extremely busy. Between teaching classes and taking his own Harry barely got to see his friends except at meal times. To make matters worse, whenever he did see Ginny, she seemed distant, barely spoke to him, and ran off as soon as she had a chance, as she had all summer.

Despondent, he told Ron about how Ginny was acting. He got a sympathetic look from his best friend. "Ah, don't worry about her, mate," Ron said. "She'll come around."

But after those first couple weeks Harry wasn't sure she was going to. He didn't understand women at all, so he went to Luna to ask if she knew. Luna just gave him a sad little smile and replied that death tended to change people and not always for the better.

And when he tried to ask Hermione about it, she had replied that she was busy getting ready for her class but that she'd talk to him later and gave him that look she always did when Harry didn't understand something and she did.

So that was great. Now Harry felt depressed, his friends were busy, and he still hadn't escaped the attention brought to him by the fact that he had killed Voldemort, by students and even professors constantly asking him to tell the story of how he had defeated Voldemort.

That night found him looking somewhere, anywhere, for a place to hide. He considered the Room of Requirement but either it was out of commission since the fire, or it didn't feel he required it as much as he thought he required it. This led to him walking through the school looking for a quiet place to just sit and think and collect his thoughts without other people around.

He ended up wandering down to the dungeons without even thinking about it much. He paused when he heard someone moving around in Snape's old Potions classroom. He quietly approached and stuck his head around the corner to peek inside.

It was Malfoy. The other boy stood at a desk, chopping up something purple and leafy with confident hands, a look of concentration on his face. Harry watched Malfoy moved to place the chopped bits into the caldron, then moved back to gather up something that looked like a bit like a carrot and started cutting up that as well.

It struck Harry then how much like an adult Malfoy looked now. He was no longer the young boy he once was... well, either of them were. His actions and motions conveyed confidence; he knew what he was doing. The black buttoned up collar outfit made him look dignified and authoritative, and, as he moved around the Potions classroom with purpose, just a tiny bit like Snape. Granted, instead of long black greasy hair, Draco's was short and blond, and instead of brown eyes, Draco's were a piercing grey.

Harry gave up hovering at the door and walked into the room. He sat down in the desk beside the one where Malfoy was working.

"I'm not helping you teach the Dark Arts class, Potter," Malfoy said without even looking up, his words slow and drawled. "I have enough on my hands with this class."

Harry was taken aback. "That's not why I'm here," he said.

That actually got a somewhat surprised look from Draco, though he looked away quickly with a frown and a disinterested sigh. "Then why _are_ you here?" he asked, in a tone of voice that said he really didn't care to know.

Harry shrugged.

"You're not very decisive these days, are you, Potter?" Malfoy asked.

"Guess not," Harry replied honestly.

Draco gave him an irritated look. "Don't you have _friends_, Potter?" he asked. "Somewhere else to be right now?"

Harry shrugged again. He was quiet for a moment. "Ginny's ignoring me. Luna is studying. Hermione and Ron are probably off having some, ah, alone time," he made a bit of a face at that.

"Gross," Draco declared. "Like I really want to know what that insufferable mudblood is up to."

"You shouldn't use that word," Harry said, though far less crossly than even he expected.

Draco obviously picked up on it because he gave him a quick appraising look. "I can say whatever I want to say, Potter," he replied dismissively.

"Dumbledore wouldn't have like it," Harry said quietly.

Draco turned on him quickly, his potion all but forgotten. "Dumbledore is dead you IDIOT," he ranted, surprising Harry at the suddenness of his outburst. "In case you didn't notice, and I really DON'T CARE what someone who died over a year ago has to say about anything I say."

Harry stood up. "Fine, Malfoy," he snapped. "_I_ don't like it."

Draco's face twisted. "Like I even care what you…" he stopped and glowered, looking furious. "Why are you even HERE, Potter?" he demanded to know. "Enjoy bothering people when they want to be left alone?"

And there it was. Harry stared at him in amazement, anger leaving as fast as it had come. "You want to be left alone?" he asked. He had thought… what had he thought? Really? That now that he was being ignored by Slytherins he'd leap at a chance to be friendly with him? Since when did he want to be friendly with Malfoy anyway?

"Yes, VERY good," Draco replied, his voice coming out in a bit of a hiss. "Go AWAY, Potter," he turned away from him, very deliberately.

Harry stared at his backside for a long moment as he slowly processed that. Then he shrugged himself and shoved his hands in his pockets.

He felt a bit hurt as he left, which surprised him. He had to honestly consider this. Why on earth did he care if Draco wanted him around or not? He had never wanted him around back when they were in school… why would this matter now?

He had no idea, but he suspected it had something to do with the fact that his friends were ignoring him and he really didn't have anyone else to talk to. He managed a bit of a wry smile at that. He had never expected to reach the day where Malfoy was the only other company he could think of, or even wanted to try to be around.

At least Malfoy wasn't going to ask him to tell any stories about the war, Harry thought. Partly because he had been there. And the old animosity was almost comforting, what with everything so changed.

Harry decided then, laughing at himself in utter disbelief. He was going to try to spend more time with Malfoy wasn't he?

.

No, he definitely didn't want to leave Draco alone, he realized over the next couple days, as he found himself glancing towards the Slytherin table more and more often, or trying to catch sight of him in the halls. Draco, if he noticed the extra attention Harry was giving him, didn't show any indication of it.

It was about three days later, when Hermione and Ron had disappeared again, Ginny was still missing from his life, that Harry decided that he really didn't want to study all cooped up in the Gryffindor tower. So he took out the old Maurader's Map and looked for Draco's foot prints. They were outside, heading towards the lake. Harry pocketed the map again and set out.

He did find Draco sitting beside the lake, peering over the water with a far away look on his face. He carefully approached as if sneaking up on a dangerous animal, and, when Draco didn't react, he sat down next to him.

The only sign that Draco gave of noticing him was the way his back stiffened for a moment before he hunched in on himself a bit.

Draco watched the water. Harry watched Draco.

It was nice, he decided yet again, to see Draco like this. Especially since for so long all he had seen from Draco was animosity, antagonism and fear. Just to see him calm and quiet, no longer terrorizing like he had been before their sixth year, or terrorized like the last couple times he had seen him before the end of the war. He hadn't wanted that, even on his worst enemy. Which Malfoy kind of was, come to think of it…

The calm didn't last long. Harry watched as irritation, anger, and finally resignation came over Draco's face until he turned and gave Harry a look like he was something undesirable stuck to the bottom of his shoe. "What do YOU want?" he demanded to know.

Harry shrugged. "Nothing," he replied.

Draco sighed, shut his eyes, and appeared to count to ten before opening his eyes again. "Well you must have some sort of reason for stalking me, Potter, though I can't for the life of me imagine why."

Harry shrugged again.

Draco let out a little growl and jerked his arm towards Harry suddenly, pushing up the sleeve. "Look. It's gone, see?" And, indeed, the arm was bare. "I'm not a Death Eater anymore, I'm not going to curse any of your stupid little friends, or poison anyone, kill any mudbloods or anything like that, so if the Ministry put you up to this…"

Harry raised his eyebrows. Both of them. "You think the Ministry is having me keep an eye on you?" he asked, a bit incredulously.

Draco stared at him, then jerked down his sleeve. "What else could it be," he muttered grumpily.

Harry studied him then looked out over the water as well. "You're one of the only people who isn't bothering me right now," he said quietly. "I can't go anywhere without someone paying attention to me or asking me stupid questions about the stupid war like I really want to talk about it over and over again. I don't want to think about my friends dying, thanks…" he was rambling, he realized. To Draco of all people. He shut up quickly.

Draco, for his part, was giving him a look of dawning understanding. That quickly was covered by a scowl and a disgusted look. "Well, if attention will get you to leave me be, Potter, I'll be more than happy to oblige," he growled, reaching in his robes for his wand.

Harry caught his wrist before he could pull it out. Draco gave him a surprised, almost fearful look, then jerked his hand away quickly, lip curling again.

"Don't," Harry said. "I don't want to fight right now," he said firmly. "I promise I won't say anything, and I'll leave in a minute."

Draco just stared at him like he had grown two heads. When Harry didn't say anything else Draco hunched in on himself again, scowling as he looked back out over the water.

When Harry was sure Draco wasn't going to make any sudden movements for his wand, he relaxed himself, rolling his head back and sighing. After a few minutes of sitting there in silence, Harry saw Draco slowly relax himself, his eyes falling half lidded as he drew his knees up and rested his chin on top of them. That made a small smile cross Harry's face. The time passed amicably until Harry finally decided he had bothered Draco long enough and got back to his feet with a stretch and a yawn.

"Good night, Draco," Harry offered peacefully.

That got him a muttered. "Finally." Even so Harry couldn't help but to smile a little bit more as he walked away. That had been minorly successful… well, they hadn't argued or cursed each other at very least.

Harry was glad.


	3. Confessions

…

3. Confessions

…

On the third week back, notices began to go up about Quidditch tryouts. Harry had nearly forgotten in the year he had been gone and stared at the notice with awe. He wondered how that had managed to slip his mind. It was Quidditch, he loved Quidditch! And… would he even have time for it with both his studies and teaching? He frowned.

To make matters worse, as he stood there with his mouth open, Draco chose to walk by. For a fleeting moment Harry thought he was going to keep on going to whatever class he had now, but then he stopped, turned, walked back to where Harry stood and looked up at the poster as well.

"Ah," he said with a bit of distain in his voice. "Repaired the pitch did they?"

Harry glanced at him. "Yeah, must have," he said. "You'll be playing right?" he asked a bit hopefully. If Draco could fit in Quidditch, perhaps he could too.

Draco gave him a look like he was mad. "I haven't played Quidditch in two years," Draco said slowly, like he was a stupid child would should understand this.

Harry flushed. "Oh," he muttered, and now Draco gave him a particular look.

"Aren't you going to play, Potter?" he asked.

Harry shrugged. "Not sure," he said. "Bit busy this year… and I'm out of practice. Didn't get to play last year," he said with a bit of a wistful smile.

Draco gave him a sidelong glance from under his hair. "You should play, Potter," he said. "It's one of the only things you seem to be good at. Well that and not dying. Pity." With that he turned heel and walked off.

Harry glared after him, anger bubbling up inside, but before he could retort with anything Draco had disappeared back into the mill of students.

.

Later that night found Harry sneaking out of the Gryffindor tower, heading towards the Quidditch pitch. He wanted to go flying, just for a bit, see if it still had the same sort of spark to it that it had for him before.

He saw it from far away, before he was anywhere near the pitch. A boy, riding on a broom, circling high above the grounds. Harry recognized him even from a distance, and mostly because of the very recognizable white-blond hair on his head.

Draco! Harry grinned. If Draco was practicing there was a chance he'd be trying out for Quidditch after all!

Harry even thought, for half a second, that maybe he could convince Draco to let him practice with him. Then as he watched, Draco flew out of the pitch, zipping over the grounds and Harry realized that he may have just been flying about for the fun of it. Especially since Draco just finished pulling off a rapid set of complicated dives and turns.

It happened so fast that Harry hadn't even time to see it coming, let alone get his wand out to prevent it. One moment Draco was circling, swooping and diving, looking like he was enjoying himself, and the next a flash of red hit Draco. It was a curse or hex from a wand, and it had come from the grounds below him. Both Draco and his broom dropped from the sky like a pair of stones, disappearing out of sight.

Harry let out a yell and broke into a run.

As he crested the hill and looked down on the Quidditch grounds he could see several shadowy figures hovering over what could only be Draco. It looked like they were kicking him, and beside them something was on fire… it looked like it was his broom…

An icy chill went through Harry. "Draco!" he shouted. He drew his wand and let out a couple hexes, while he ran towards the crowd as fast as he could.

Before he could reach them, however, Draco's attackers took off, all at once, towards the greenhouses, leaving Draco in a crumpled heap on the ground. A couple turned back just enough to shoot counter spells towards him and Harry had to duck to avoid them, and let out a couple more of his own as he straightened and continued to run forwards. He neared Draco and for a split second Harry stopped. He wanted to keep going but he had no idea how seriously Draco had been hurt…

Harry raised his wand up, then higher, ready to shoot at the greenhouses to drive them back towards either him or the school, damage to school property be damned...

"No!" Draco's voice stilled his hand. "Stop!"

The last of the shadowy figures disappeared behind the greenhouses, escaping. Harry stared after them, aghast, then slowly lowered his wand. He turned back. Draco was lying on his side, gasping for breath, his mouth screwed up in pain as he held his leg to his chest. Harry went to him, but Draco waved him away and sat up.

"Who was it?" Harry breathed angrily as he stood over Draco. "Who were they?"

Draco looked up at him, his eyes wide in the moonlight. For a fleeting moment he looked incredibly young and frightened. Then the look disappeared as he scowled. He dropped his eyes as Harry crouched down beside him. "It's none of your business, Potter," he replied, his voice clipped and condescending.

"None of my…" Harry shook, indignant and angry beyond belief. "They just tried to _kill you_, Malfoy."

Draco snorted and focused his attention on his leg. He began peeling his pants back from the cuff, using his wand to slice the fabric, so that he could get a look at it. "Your… _concern_ is unwarranted," he said as he did so.

Harry's mouth fell open. "I can't believe you," he reached out and grabbed him by his upper arms. "They cursed you off a broom and then they-"

Draco let out one brief sharp cry of pain, dropped his wand. He flinched back from Harry, his teeth clenched, then reacted. "Get AWAY from me," he spat, pushing him away violently, and Harry let him go and fell back, landing on his rear on the grass.

He sat there, staring in disbelief, and Draco continued to glare back at him, breathing heavily as he recovered, his face twisted with anger. He finally looked away from Harry and returning his attention to his leg. Harry watched as Draco picked up his wand with a slightly shaking hand then, gripping it tightly, brought his other hand up to hold the leg into place. He drew his wand down over it as he whispered spells under his breath, so quietly that Harry couldn't make them out.

"Tell me who they were," Harry asked again, this time less forcefully.

Draco didn't even look up at him, but he had dropped the leg and gone onto an arm, shrugging off his robes and peeling back his shirt to inspect it. "No," he replied, as he ran his wand up and down that arm. His BARE arm, Harry noted yet again. "Let it go, Potter," Draco added, a warning note in his voice.

Harry let out a little huff of frustration as he watched Draco work. Then he got to his feet again suddenly to take a couple steps back towards Malfoy and crouch down in front of him. Draco looked up at him, startled, then miraculously held still as he took Malfoy's wrist in his hand.

And then the whole world seemed to slow down. Harry frowned, concentrating as he ran his hand up the side of Draco's arm where the Dark Mark would have been months before. The skin was a pale white in the moonlight and completely unblemished. He traced his way up the arm, pausing in the hollow of his arm… everything felt fine, whatever damage had been done the spell Draco had used obviously worked to fix it…

"Satisfied?" Harry look up suddenly to see Draco was sneering at him. At the same time Harry realized exactly how close to Draco he was and how he was holding his arm. He jerked away from him quickly, dropping his arm as he fell back, staring at Draco as he flushed despite himself.

Draco looked back at him, the expression on his face guarded as he pulled down his shirt sleeve over the non-existent mark then reached out to gather up his robe.

"Right," Harry climbed back to his feet, wiping suddenly sweaty palms on his pants. "I…" he spotted something that could help him change the subject. "Your broom," he said with dismay, looking at the charred remains.

Draco got to his feet as well. He studied him silently for a bit longer, enough that Harry started to shuffle about awkwardly, then shrugged and let out a loud, exasperated sigh. "It's just a BROOM, Potter. I'll get another one." As if deciding that it wasn't worth it to be around Harry any longer, Draco started off, away from Harry and towards the school. Harry could see he was limping, though he was trying his best not to show it. He also realized, feeling nausea grip him suddenly, that the leg must have been broken or at least near to it from the fall. If he was still limping after putting a couple healing spells on his leg…

Anger surged in him again and Harry jogged to catch up with Malfoy, snagging his shirt sleeve and turning around to face him. "Your leg... they really hurt you," he said furiously, making a hand motion down to Draco's leg.

Malfoy jerked away from him, and Harry grabbed him again. They wrestled for a moment until Draco won his freedom and let out a hollow laugh as he stumbled back from Harry. "Really Potter?" Draco drawled in an amused tone of voice, and Harry looked at him, surprised. "Hurt? You think they actually hurt me?" Draco's eyes flashed. "This, Potter? A couple scratches?" He let out another mocking chuckle. "This is nothing. You have NO IDEA what I've been through. I think I can handle THIS," with that he turned towards the school and started off again with determination.

Harry shut his mouth from where it had been hanging open and swallowed. "I do actually," he called out before Draco could get very far.

Draco froze.

"I know what you've been through," Harry added, studying the rigid backside. "And I'm…"

That was enough. Draco rounded on him, his eyes flashing in rage and his voice low and dangerous. "How? How could you POSSIBLY know? You've been crucio-ed what, once, TWICE? Tell me, Potter, did he torture you before he tried to kill you? Made you watch as he tortured others? Made YOU torture them?" His mouth twisted as he stared at Harry with his cold grey eyes. "No? Because let me tell you, Potter. That loopy Lovegood girl sure does have a set of lungs on her. You should hear her scream."

Harry reacted before he could stop or even think about it really, lunging at Malfoy and sacking him. They both went down, struggling for the upper hand, until Malfoy let out a bitten off cry of pain and stopped. Harry stopped as well from where he was on top of him, his shirt clenched in his fists. They glared at each other, and Harry had to work to keep down his anger and not hit him. He breathed in deeply and let it go again. He had to do it again before he could trust himself to speak. "If you're trying to provoke me into attacking you like they did," and Harry jerked his head back towards the greenhouses. "It's not going to work," he said through clenched teeth. "I'm not going to make you pay for something you were forced to do against your will." He had to take another breath to stop himself from doing just that. He got back up, and jerked Malfoy back to his feet as well.

Draco shrugged him off, backing up a couple steps, breathing hard with his eyes narrowed into slits as he brushed invisible grass from his shirt. "What if I wanted to do it?" he asked in a low taunting voice and again Harry had to visibly fight to stop himself from slamming his fist into his face.

Harry grit his teeth and refused to take out his wand either, even though his hand went to his side. Someone had just tried to kill Draco, and he meant it, he wasn't going to be the next. Maybe. "Alright _Malfoy_," he said in a low dangerous voice. "Did you?"

Draco's ugly look grew and Harry watched as he shut his eyes and opened them again. Harry steeled himself, preparing for something along the lines of 'of COURSE I did, Potter,' but it didn't come. Instead Draco looked at him with eyes full of absolutely loathing and something else Harry couldn't quite place and replied in a strangled voice.

"No."

Harry relaxed, tension leaving him as quickly as it came. He felt relieved. "Then why did you-".

Draco exploded suddenly, taking Harry completely by surprise. "You FOOL," he snarled, stalking - or rather limping - back towards Harry, getting right up into his face. "You actually think I would have wanted that, Potter? That I find torturing people a FUN and EXCITING activity? That I wanted to see people DIE?" he was seething, eyes flashing. "DO YOU THINK I WOULD HAVE COME BACK HERE IF I DID?" his chest was heaving and suddenly Harry was afraid that he was going to pass out. He stepped forwards and caught Draco by the arms, expecting Draco to jerk away from him again. Instead Draco seemed to slump in his grasp, his eyes glazing over a bit as he got his breathing under control.

"Granger…" Draco began in a quiet voice once he regained his breath somewhat.

"Hermoine?" Harry asked gently, puzzled. "What about her?"

Draco shook his head and straightened a bit. "Nothing. Nevermind."

Harry was confused, until it occurred to him, in a flash of insight, that Hermione was one of the people Draco had seen tortured during the war. Harry had to swallow back the bad taste in his throat and changed the subject back to the present. "Who attacked you?" Harry asked again, very quietly.

Draco looked at him, his eyes clearing completely and the expression on his face turning slightly desperate. "I can't..."

"Malfoy," Harry began, and Draco's eyes darted up to his face before looking away again.

"Slytherins," he said finally as if it was the hardest thing he had ever had to say.

Harry dropped his hold on Draco, shocked. "... what?" he exclaimed, not sure if he heard him correctly.

Draco made a dismissive hand motion and half turned away. He stood for a long moment, collecting himself. "They lost their parents," he said finally, his voice full of loathing. "And they heard your stupid story about my mother."

"But there's..." Harry stammered, not knowing what to say and completely confused. "I'm the one who killed..."

Draco shook his head. "Doesn't matter." he replied and now he sounded slightly tired. "My family is disgraced, Potter, you of all people should know that."

"I-" Harry stepped forwards, a determined look on his face. "I'm going to..."

"Do nothing, Potter," Draco interrupted him, giving him a sharp look. "You do ANYTHING to those _children_," he ground out the last word. "And someone a lot more powerful will go after my family. I will NOT let that happen again," he made a sharp cutting motion with his hand. "You. Will. Do. NOTHING." he repeated.

He paused and inspected the livid, rebellious expression on Harry's face. "Stop it Potter, the hero act is tiresome," Draco said with a bit of a lip curl. "They threatened me today, if you must know, I should have known not to go out tonight. Or rather, I should have been more prepared," he raised his chin and gave a haughty look in the direction of where his attackers had fled.

"This is ridiculous," Harry declared. "You can't honestly expect me to—"

"Control yourself? That would be a change for you, wouldn't it?" Draco looked back at him and the corner of his mouth curved into a smirk as he took in the expression on Harry's face. "What's wrong, Potter?" he asked. "Did I shatter your quaint little black and white world? Did you really think the war was over when you defeated the Dark Lord?"

Harry's teeth clenched so hard they hurt. "The war IS over, Malfoy," he hissed back. "I fought to PREVENT things like this from happening."

Draco let out a little snort. "What you want and what actually happens are often two different things, Potter," Draco returned quietly. "The war might be over for you, but it's not for the rest of us," he turned away again.

Harry reached out and snagged his shirt again, not wanting to let him go. "Draco..." he began.

Draco stopped, his hair hanging loosely over the side of his face so that Harry couldn't see his eyes. He stood there, perfectly still and Harry frowned and reached out. He brushed the bangs back from his eyes and Draco flinched, just a bit. Harry felt embarrassed and quickly pulled his hand away. He expected to be glared at but now Draco was just looking at him, an almost curious expression on his face. "I… we, can protect you," Harry said finally, feeling himself flush a deeper red. At the same time unbidden memories of Dumbledore's final conversation with Draco came back to him… he was repeating the Headmaster's words.

Draco shook his head and let out a little bark of laughter. "You couldn't protect me last year," he said finally as if he had read Harry's thoughts. "And that was when my life was in actual danger." Something must have showed on Harry's face… remorse? regret? whatever it was, the expression on Draco's face softened when he saw it. "Let me go, Potter," he said without any heat. "If I need your help I'll ask for it."

"You wouldn't ask," Harry pointed out, but he dropped Draco's shirt anyway.

Draco shot him an arrogant smirk. "No." he said. "I wouldn't." He turned and began limping back towards the school again with determination.

Harry watched him go, feeling suddenly very very tired and drained.

.

Harry considered going to McGonagall about the attack on Draco, deliberated about it the entire next day while glaring at the Slytherin table, trying to figure out which of them had done it. By the end of the day he had decided, reluctantly, to do as Draco had requested and let it go. For now. But if he ever found out who tried to hurt Draco he wasn't sure he'd be able to sit idly by…

It was also something that came very hard to him, but Harry had to admit there wasn't much he could do, if what Draco said was true about his family. Harry was fairly sure Draco would never forgive him if something happened to his parents.

He didn't have to like it though.

He did go to talk to Luna, however, about what Draco had said.

He found her in a secluded part of the library, which was perfect. She was reading a textbook, upside down of course, but when Harry sat down opposite of her she lowered it and gave him an ethereal smile. "Hullo Harry," she greeted him.

Harry nodded at her. "Hi," he said. He shifted a bit uncomfortably in the chair. "Luna can I ask you a question?"

She nodded. "Of course you can," she replied.

Harry cleared his throat. "Draco…" he lowered his voice and leaned forwards so that she would be the only one to hear him. She leaned forwards as well. "When you were in his cellar with Dean at Malfoy's house, did he ever do anything to hurt you?"

She processed the question then smiled again. "Of course not," she said. "Not him. Poor boy, all alone. So very frightened. He brought us food once." She paused. "It wasn't very good." She added, almost as an afterthought.

Harry stared at her with his mouth open. But of course, he realized, shutting his mouth abruptly. He felt angry suddenly that Draco would lie to try to provoke Harry into attacking him. God, he had nearly…

Luna reached forwards and patted him on the knee. "I'm glad he has you as a friend now Harry. That is very nice of you."

Harry flushed. "Thank you," was all he managed to get out before he fled the library. They weren't friends, and weren't going to be unless…

Harry considered that. He had to find something to keep Draco from driving him away. He just didn't know what that was going to be yet.

…


	4. Silence

…

4. Silence

...

Harry tried to hang out with Hermione and Ron during the next couple weeks, tried being the operative word. Again, with Hermione insisting on taking far too many classes along with the class she had to teach herself, so he barely saw her. And when he did see her, she was busy snogging Ron on one of the couches in the Gryffindor common room while Harry tried his best not to be extraordinarily uncomfortable. Finally, when he overheard them discussing what colors they should have at the wedding (or rather Hermione was, Ron looked and sounded clueless) Harry had had enough. He shut his text book and left.

He knew he was going to go see Draco before he even got to the Potions classroom. When he got there he found Draco sitting on a desk with his legs propped up on another one. He looked completely uninterested as he wrote up a class assignment on the board with his wand.

Harry plopped down on the desk beside Draco with a sigh.

Draco glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, his eyebrow raised before continuing with the assignment.

"Ron and Hermione," Harry began.

Draco made a cutting gesture with his free hand. "I don't want to know, Potter," he said.

"Might be getting married," Harry finished.

Draco looked up then, horror on his face. "That's disgusting," he said, his lip curling. "Ugh," he hopped down off the desks, and went over to the caldron to start to set out ingredients.

Harry actually smiled. "That's it?" he asked. He had expected a long tirade of how his best friends were going to make abominable half-blooded, red haired, poor children. Or something to that effect. And perhaps a couple cracks about how ugly they'd look based on Ron's mum's genes. Though to be fair he hadn't heard Draco make any comments about anyone's mother in nearly three years…

Draco barely afforded him a glance. "You know what I think about it," he said dismissively as he picked up a knife and set it to work chopping. "I don't feel it's necessary to repeat myself to a dim witted half-blood muggle lover like yourself."

Oh there we go, Harry thought. Draco's expected comments ended up aimed at him instead of his friends. Harry glared, then shrugged and stuffed his hands in the pockets of his robe, refusing to be baited with great effort. Instead he stood and watched Draco cut and mix for a few minutes. "What potion are you making?" he asked finally, trying to strike up a conversation.

That got him another irritated look. "There's the board, Potter," Draco said, pointing. "Or did the disgusting muggles that raised you forget to teach you how to read? Not surprising," he added.

Harry flushed despite himself and bit down yet another retort. Instead he dutifully turned and looked at the board. It was a couple healing potions, Burn-healing paste and cough solution. Harry smiled a bit despite himself. He remembered those classes, about half of the potions were good enough to take down to Madam Pomfrey's when they were done. The other half, of course, were not, and Snape had been sure to tell those students exactly how he felt about their failed potions…

Harry smiled wider. "Remember when Snape…" he began as he turned back around. He was just in time to see Draco's head snap up.

The fleeting look of remorse on Draco's face wasn't lost on Harry. "I'm sorry," Harry said contritely after a moment. "I didn't mean to bring him up."

Draco shook his head, frowned, and returned to his potion. "Why should I care about him?" he said with distain, but Harry could also hear a slight tremble to his voice.

Harry was silent for a moment, considering. "He cared about you," he pointed out.

"Right," Draco turned around so that his back was facing him.

Harry watched him. "He'd have been glad you lived through the war," he said and then he stopped, considered and pushed on. "I'm glad you didn't die as well," he told Draco's backside.

Draco swung back around to glare at him, and a world of emotions crossed his face. Shock, anger, confusion, sadness, and this very lost look he had seen only once before. Draco quickly schooled himself back to a carefully neutral expression.

Harry didn't smile, or make any indication that he was joking. He wasn't. Not about this. He was honestly and a bit surprisingly glad that Malfoy was alive and well and here. And maybe that's what he needed to do to convince him… he steeled himself and bravely took a risk. "Draco," he began, taking a step towards him.

Draco drew back quickly, a deeply suspicious look on his face. "What are you playing at, Potter?" he eyed him. "What do you want?"

Harry gave him a serious look. "It would be nice if we could be friends," he said politely.

Now Draco was giving him a look like he was absolutely daft. "Friends?" he spat. "You are mad, Potter. Why would I ever want to be friends with you?"

That was not the response Harry had hoped for, though he supposed it wasn't unexpected. Harry flushed despite himself and sighed. "Well," he had to think about what he could say without upsetting Draco. More. "We're both still alive…" he began carefully.

Draco cut him off. "Oh, oh that's brilliant. That's rich! We should be _friends_, because we're both _alive_. By that reasoning, you want to be friends with every wizard left on the planet! Good luck with that, Potter," Draco went to turn away again.

"I just meant you," Harry replied stubbornly.

Draco's jaw dropped. He actually came around the side of the desk to approach Harry. He stopped and leaned forwards to study Harry's face, his eyes narrowed. Harry forced himself to stay still, and tried his best to look as sincere as possible.

Draco seemed to decide something and took a step back. "No," he said.

"No?" Harry repeated.

"The answer, Potter," Draco turned back around and waved a hand in the air dismissively. "Is no. I have better things to do with my time than to hang out with the likes of you."

Harry couldn't hold his tongue this time. "Like what?" he returned angrily. "Brewing potions and teaching children? Sitting by a lake? Getting attacked by your own _**house**_? You have no friends, Malfoy, you don't even-"

"Shut up!" Draco snarled, whipping back around to face him. Draco had his wand pointed right at him, his eyes flashing with rage. Harry obediently shut up and berated himself silently for not getting his wand out before hurtling insults at Malfoy. Stupid quick fire temper... "Do you EVER love to hear yourself speak, Potter," Draco snapped at him. "_Stupi_-"

Harry dodged before Draco could complete the curse, allowing it to rebound harmlessly past him. "Protego!" he said quickly, deflecting another curse. This was nuts, they were in a classroom full of breakable objects… "Draco, stop-"

Another curse hit above Harry's head and he ducked, then shot a couple curses of his own towards Draco. The last thing he had wanted to do tonight was to get into a duel. He heard something shatter as it was hit and winced despite himself, turning his head towards the sound. Oh great. Professor Slughorn was not going to be happy…

In the small moment that he was distracted, one of Draco's curses landed. Harry found himself hurtling through the air. He crashed against a wall, bringing down a couple shelves and slumped to the floor, groaning. He managed to raise his head to see that Draco was advancing on him quickly… he winced and reached for his wand…

Draco broke into a run and a black shoe kicked his wand away before he could grab it. Harry looked up. Draco was gazing down at him with an impassive expression on his face, his own wand pointed right at him.

"Incarcerous!" Draco said. Thick ropes closed in over Harry's torso, tying his arms to his sides.

"What—" Harry began angrily, and with another flick of his wand Harry found himself quite unable to speak, gagged by invisible magic. Now he just glared, unable to do anything else except struggle silently against the ropes. This was not funny, and if any Professors came in here Draco would be in a lot of trouble. In fact he silently hoped Professor Slughorn or McGonagall would come in right now and find him…

Draco crouched down next to his prone body and Harry jerked away... or tried to. He was really regretting giving Malfoy back his wand right about now…

"It's a wonder you ever managed to defeat anyone, let alone him," Draco said in an incredulous voice as he watched Harry struggle. Instead of doing anything to hurt him however, Draco inspected him closely, his expression turning thoughtful. Harry stilled, his brow knitting.

Draco switched his wand into his other hand and reached out towards him. Harry startled as cool fingers touched his forehead. His eyes widened and Draco smoothed a couple locks of Harry's hair back from his forehead, then ran a thumb up and down the lightening bolt shaped scar.

It didn't hurt. Well, Harry knew it wouldn't hurt, it hadn't since Voldemort died permanently, but after eight years he half expected it to burn. He considered that, then frowned, distracted back to the present. Now what was he doing? Draco's fingers had left his forehead to trace down the side of his cheek, smoothing over his cheek bones and along the side of his jaw.

Harry stared at him. It wasn't unpleasant, just unexpected... DRACO was touching him. Not hitting him, but touching him somewhat gently and it was odd to say the least. For some reason Harry's heart began to speed up and his breathing did as well, but he stubbornly refused to move or try to pull away. Before he could get too worked up, however, Draco pulled away instead, dropping his hand. Harry sagged a bit in relief.

The other boy let out a little sigh, his grey eyes sliding from Harry to look around the room. He crouched there for a moment or two more, head bowed slightly.

He looked tired, Harry realized. Exhausted, really and he felt a tiny flash of guilt.

The other young man finally stood. He looked around, then with a flick of his wand he muttered "reparo". Items around Harry began to lift and knit back together. Only Harry remained, bound and gagged on the floor. Draco stepped away from him and for a moment Harry was afraid Draco was going to walk away and just leave him there. Instead Draco went over to where Harry's wand had ended up and picked it up again. He walked back over to Harry and crouched down again.

"I don't know what you're up to, or who put you up to this. I don't really care either," Draco said slowly, his eyes narrowed. "All I want you to do is leave me alone. I'm going to let you go, I'm going to give you your wand back, and I want you to leave. Can you do something as simple as that, Potter?"

Harry didn't say anything. He couldn't. But he could nod and did so reluctantly. Draco waited a few moments more, then stood, pointing his wand down. The ropes came undone from around Harry and at the same time Harry felt the gag lift. As Harry moved, Draco dropped Harry's wand near his head with a clatter, turned, and walked away.

Harry grabbed for it and stood quickly, breathing heavily and wincing a bit as his back decided to remind him it had just hit a wall with things on it. He watched as Draco silently went about cleaning up his potion. Finally Harry relaxed and sighed, feeling equal parts angry and resigned. Okay, so that failed. But he had given it an honest attempt… what the hell was wrong with Malfoy anyway?

But really, what had he expected, he thought as he turned and reluctantly left the classroom.

.

The fight in the classroom didn't shake Harry's resolve to try to spend more time around Draco. He just accepted that he'd probably have to be a bit more on his guard if he did. He wasn't 'up to' anything and he was determined to show Draco that.

Unfortunately Draco had apparently decided the best way to get rid of Harry was to ignore him completely.

Draco ignored Harry in class, ignored him in the halls, and whenever Harry said "hi". He even ignored Harry when he dropped by the potions classroom to stand in the doorway, watching Draco prep for classes the next day. Draco blatantly refused to acknowledge him at all or only offered frosty one word replies to Harry's questions, even when it was about the classes they taught.

It was going to drive him nuts, he decided, after a couple weeks had passed. He had to talk to him again, and really talk, not just exchange in one word answers. Sarcastic mean spirited Draco was better than sullenly silent Draco. Draco was also starting to seriously remind him of how he'd been in their sixth year, and he knew exactly how well that year had turned out.

It was nearly Halloween when he got his chance. He had been sitting in the window seat in the dorms, looking over the grounds. Twilight had just fallen but even so, Draco's blond hair was fairly distinctive in the waning light. Harry wondered briefly what he was doing out and about, then noticed the stack of scrolls he had under his arm. Probably off to hand reports in to McGonagall. Harry hopped down from the window seat and made his way down the stairs.

Sure enough Draco was walking in the opposite direction of where he was heading when Harry got there, scrolls gone. As he approached Draco whirled on a dime, his wand out and pointed it right at Harry. Harry actually put his hands in the air, a bit surprised at how fast Draco had moved. Though in retrospect he supposed it made sense how defensive Draco was, what with the attack a few weeks before...

"Oh," Draco said once he saw who it was. "It's you." He stuffed his wand back into his robes and kept on walking.

Harry fell into step beside the other boy. "We need to talk," he said firmly.

"_I_ don't have to do anything, Potter," Draco replied. "Least of all talk to you."

"Fine," Harry retorted, and stubbornly continued to follow Draco.

Draco didn't look happy but he continued to walk along without saying anything to Harry. Harry half expected him to head back to Slytherin, but instead Draco looped down along the edge of the grounds, along the forest and towards the lake. Harry, of course, followed him.

They, or rather Draco stopped at the shore, far enough back that nothing would grab them from the depths. Draco settled down under a tree, leaning his head back against it. Harry hesitated a moment, then sat under the tree as well, deliberately close to the other boy. Draco still didn't say anything, or shift away for that matter. Mentally shrugging Harry settled back as well, turning his gaze onto the water or whatever Draco was looking at.

It didn't take Harry very long to realize why Draco was there. It was to watch the moon rise. It was a full moon tonight, and was just starting to peek over the trees of the forbidden forest. As the shadows deepened the light filtered down from between the trees, reflecting off of the dark water and gently lapping waves.

It was very relaxing, Harry thought. He let his head fall back against the tree, suddenly feeling very tired. It had been a long week. Well, month… year, life. Whatever. He could fall asleep right here.

Draco shifted beside him and Harry turned his head to look at him.

Draco's head was only inches away from his own. Harry blinked in surprise as their eyes met, then froze absolutely still as Draco reached up and touched the side of his face, thumb brushing against his cheekbone. Harry tried desperately to process that, that Draco was touching him again, gently, like back in the classroom, and now his heart started to pound again and…

And then something else happened that threatened to shut down his brain altogether.

Draco leaned over and kissed him.

It wasn't just a short kiss either. Harry went to jerk away, more out of surprise than anything, but Draco held his head in place, drawing the kiss out for a second, then two and three and finally pulling away again and letting him go.

Harry had absolutely no idea what to say. He sat there, in shock, his mouth hanging open, as Draco inspected him. He could see in the dim light how Draco's mouth curved up into a smirk as he looked away to resume gazing at the water.

"Shut your mouth, Potter, you look like a dying fish," Draco said, amusement in his voice.

Harry shut his mouth obediently, but it didn't last. "You… you just," he stammered and fell silent again.

"Spit it out," Malfoy drawled after a moment of Harry not saying anything. "We haven't got all night."

Indignation threatened to rise in Harry and push the shock aside. "Why did you do that?" he demanded to know.

"'_Why did you do that_?'" Draco mimicked back. "Figure it out yourself, Potter," he said in his smug voice.

Harry absolutely could not figure it out himself. A thousand different reasons crashed through his head, each and every one returning to one single thought. Malfoy liked him? MALFOY? That way? What? But he just ignored him for weeks after telling him that he had absolutely no interest in being near Harry ever… and… but he kissed him so…

"You like me," Harry said finally, with conviction. "I'm a bit surprised, I'll admit, I—" he stopped when Draco suddenly threw back his head and laughed.

"Hardly," Draco gave him a cold look. "I would like to be left alone Potter, something you have continuously refused to understand," Harry frowned and Draco ran a hand through his hair, clenching it briefly before elaborating, frustration evident in his voice. "You're supposed to be repulsed, you stupid git, and run back to Gryffindor where you belong."

Harry considered that. "It wasn't that bad," he said finally.

Now it was Draco's turn to look at him with shock, his mouth open a bit as he stared. Then a change came over his face. He let out a low growl and lunged at Harry.

Harry didn't even have time to block the attack before Malfoy was on him again, knocking him to the ground and holding him there as he kissed him, hard. When he was done he pulled away again, his eyes narrowed as he glared down at Harry.

Harry decided, in that moment, that that wasn't so bad either. His glasses had been knocked off when Malfoy shoved him back, but since he didn't feel them being crushed under him he figured they were in reaching distance. He could still see close up and frowned thoughtfully as he looked up at Draco.

Well, it wasn't being friends, not exactly, but it was something. Harry reached up, not to throw Malfoy off of him but to touch the side of his face, and Draco's eyes widened. Harry grinned at that, reached up with his other hand and pulled Draco's head back down towards him. Draco tried to jerk away at the last second, but Harry held on, brought his head off of the ground and pressed his lips to Draco's. Draco's resistance didn't last very long before he kissed him back.

Now it was a competition. One that Harry probably just won, if the odd groaning sound that Draco just made in the back of his throat was any indication. Draco was suddenly alive on top of him, squirming, his mouth opening up to Harry's as he thrust his tongue inside. Draco kissed him savagely, licking and biting, demanding more. When he pulled away again, they were both breathing hard and there was an expression of dawning realization on Draco's face.

Harry supposed Draco was going to be upset any second now about how his plan had backfired. He decided that, since he liked what they had just been doing, that he'd head that thought off at the pass. It wasn't like he could do much more to piss Draco off anyway. And goodness knows he hadn't gotten any action whatsoever in months, since Ginny had decided to start ignoring him.

Kissing Draco wasn't anything like kissing her, he decided. He leaned up, pressing his lips to Draco's jaw, feeling the scratch of closely shaved facial hair against his lips. He was a bit surprised, Draco was so pale he had never noticed he had even needed to shave before. Harry pulled back again just in time to see Draco's brow knit in either dislike or concentration, then continued, kissing and licking his way down to Draco's neck. He worried a small bit of skin between his teeth when he got there, before heading up towards his ear.

It was then that Draco made another strangled sound in the back of his throat and jerked his head away. This time he pulled away completely, sitting back on his heels, letting Harry move. Harry sat up, trying to fight off resigned disappointment as he fumbled around for his glasses. Draco, who was studying him wordlessly, seemed to pick up on the action suddenly and leaned forwards, scooping up the glasses and holding them out to Harry. "Here," he said, his voice hoarse.

"I guess that plan failed, Malfoy," Harry said as he replaced his glasses on his nose.

Draco just sat there and gave him an incredulous look. "Only a bloody Gryffindor would see kissing as a competition," he complained, drawing his hand across the back of his mouth.

"Is it?" Harry said mildly. "We should compete more often then," he said, feeling more than a bit brave.

Malfoy's face changed in the dim light. He lowered his chin and smirked up at Harry. "Need to get off, Potter?" he said, posing it as a question and a challenge at the same time.

Harry's stomach turned and he felt a bit like he was about to jump off a cliff into an especially icy lake. That… he hadn't quite expected. Kissing was one thing… but… Draco… he couldn't possibly… he drew in a deep breath. "Do you?" he replied, setting his jaw stubbornly.

That got a flash of a grin. Harry drew in a small breath and sat absolutely still as Draco pushed up and moved back towards him, coming up so he was on his knees. Harry blinked up at him owlishly, eyes wide, not quite sure what to expect. All he knew was that he had never… never got beyond snogging before in his life… but right now certain parts of him were definitely interested at the mere thought of doing something more. Draco reached out and plucked his glasses from his face and Harry found the world reduced to blurry nothing for the second time in as many minutes. He could see Draco and that was about all he could see. He watched with anticipation and a bit of trepidation as Draco tilted his head and leaned down. Their lips met and held for a moment, then Harry tentatively kissed him back.

He had expected something passionate, or violent, seeing as Draco didn't like him at all, but instead Draco kissed him slowly. His cold thin fingers clasped the side of his face as he tilted Harry's head back further, deepening the kiss and exploring his mouth gently. Harry realized, with a bit of a sickening jolt, that Draco was kissing him like how he'd kiss a girl he really liked, not how he should be kissing Harry now, and… What _was_ he doing? This was insane, he was nuts, this was DRACO and not only was Draco another boy, abit a pretty one, he was DRACO, a former Death Eater, someone who had threatened his friends, someone who had broken his nose once and made his life a living hell for how many years and ohgod… what the hell was he doing with his tongue?

It wasn't bad, the way Draco's tongue ran against his own, in fact it was good, too good and Harry let out a strangled whimpering sound in the back of his throat. The panicked voice in the back of his head be damned, he wanted this. He reared up suddenly, moving Draco back so the other boy sat on his heels. Harry looped an arm around his shoulders and pushed, backing Draco into the tree. They broke away to readjust, Draco against the tree and Harry kneeling between his legs, pressing him back against the rough bark as he kissed him back, passionately and firmly, his fingers entwining in the soft blond hair. At the same time Draco's hands ghosted up, slipping up under his robes and Harry schooled a jolt. He kept on kissing back with determination as the hands soon found the hem of his shirt and plucked it from where it was tucked into his pants, just enough that fingers could slip underneath and play against the soft skin of his stomach. Harry did startle then, Draco's hands were COLD, and he jerked away with a little gasp. His head was now far enough away to see that Draco was studying him calmly. Harry stared back, confused, then shuddered again as Draco drew his hands higher. "Cold," he managed to get out between puffs of breath. That got a soft unexpected laugh and Harry watched as Draco smiled, shut his eyes and leaned forwards to kiss him again, teeth catching his lip as he gently nipped at Harry's mouth. Sudden heat flew through Harry as Draco's rapidly warming fingers were forgotten. Harry groaned. Now he was reaching out himself, tugging on Draco's very buttoned shirt with a bit of desperation. It was only when he found he couldn't open the shirt without looking at it that Harry had to pull away again and Draco's hands stilled as well. Harry let out a noise of frustration as he tried to peer down in the dark to see the buttons that, in the moonlight, were barely visible.

Draco laughed, again, at his efforts. Harry looked up at him, a bit worried at why he was being laughed at, and more worried when Draco removed one of his hands from under Harry's shirt. Was he going to end this now that it had just become a little bit more interesting? But no, Draco brought up his free hand to wave it in front of his shirt, muttering an incantation under his breath and the buttons gave way like they hadn't been there at all. The fabric split, to Harry delight. He grinned and grasped the side of the shirt, pulling it away from Draco's torso.

Draco pushed away from the tree a little bit, twisting his head to dip it toward Harry's neck, nipping at the underside of his jaw then pausing to suck at it and Harry's eyes fluttered closed, his hands faltering from where they were trying to get at Draco's bare skin. At the same time Draco's hands returned to under his shirt, running up and then down Harry's ribs, pausing briefly to skim along the hardened muscles of his stomach and then to slip behind him. Harry let out a little squeak as he reached his arse and gripped it, causing Harry to jerk forwards. Malfoy pulled away from his neck and looked up at him, languid smirk on his face.

Not to be outdone Harry leaned down and kissed him right in the middle of his stupid smirk as he went to work, finally able to lay questing fingers against the heated flesh…

And then he paused, pulling away from Draco to look down at him with wide eyes. His hand had fallen against the raised flesh of a puckered scar. Draco stiffened, then sucked in a sharp breath as Harry ran his hand higher, further up his chest, encountering a couple more - though a bit thinner - lines of raised flesh. Harry frowned and withdrew to reach back and fumble a hand into his robes.

"Potter?" Draco voice sounded raspy, then alarmed. "No, don't!" But Harry already had his wand out and had uttered "lumos."

Draco flinched back from the light, his arms going protectively around his chest, drawing his shirt closed.

Harry put down the wand, still glowing, and grasped Draco's arms. "Let me see," Harry said firmly. Draco clenched his jaw and fought for a moment, before finally turning his head to the side and letting his arms fall away. He wouldn't look at Harry as Harry pulled back the fabric.

There were several, and that was several more then he expected. Four or five looked fairly uniform and were almost faded completely, which he expected were from his curse. But there were a few that were still livid and new enough to be purple or just starting to fade. There was a set of four of them in particular… four short deep scars on his upper chest towards the left side… they looked like they could have been caused by… claws? Harry reached out to touch them gently. "How?" he began, in a horrified whisper as he looked up at Draco.

Draco looked back at him, an unreadable expression on his face. "Death Eaters are not the kindest company one can keep," he replied finally with a bit of a sigh. He went to move, seem to think better of it and stayed still instead, letting Harry continue his exploration. "You do know how to ruin the mood, Potter," he said in a dry voice after a few more moments of being poked and prodded.

Harry jerked back to the present with a bit of a start, remembering what, exactly, he had been doing a minute ago before finding Draco's chest the most fascinating thing in the world. Which it was. He had never thought about men's chests like this before but Draco was slender and beautiful pale skin slid easily over lean muscles. He had no visible chest hair, at least not that he could see in the low light from his wand, though that was probably due to his very fair genetics, whereas Harry knew that he had more than enough to go around. All around it was a lovely chest indeed and he…

He jerked his hand away as Draco's words sunk in completely. He had ruined the mood, hadn't he? Even certain parts of his anatomy that had been very interested only moments ago had subsided the moment he had been confronted with the physical evidence of abuse that Draco had suffered, both at his hand and others. "Sorry," Harry mumbled. "I didn't mean… I mean I didn't think…"

"Yes, I'm aware of that, Potter," Draco drawled, drawing his shirt closed and buttoning it this time instead of using magic. "You're not much on the thinking department."

Harry flushed again and glared, but Draco ignored him as he got to his feet stiffly and brushed himself off.

He then leaned down, and for a desperately happy moment Harry thought Draco was going to kiss him again but no, instead he picked up Harry's glasses and handed them to him for the second time that night. Harry took them with a muttered thank you, to which Draco didn't reply before turning to walk away. Harry felt an incredible sense of loss as he sat there. He had just been doing something wonderful and he had ruined it and he couldn't even try to get it back again without sounding like a cad…

Draco stopped about ten feet away and turned back again. Harry looked up at him from where he sat.

Draco raised an eyebrow at him. "Well, Potter?" he asked. "Are you coming back to the school or are you going to just sit there all night like a lump?"

Harry blinked, but was on his feet in an instant, feeling an incredible well of hope rising up inside of him.

The rest of the way to the school was done in amicable silence, which was a welcome change. Harry took the opportunity to study Draco out of the corner of his eye. Draco for his part didn't even glance at him, which gave Harry a chance to look at him while he was doing something as simple as walking. He wondered what Draco was thinking. They had just… kissed, passionately, for an extended period of time and Draco currently looked completely calm, unaffected… it was like nothing had happened. It was a stark contrast to how he had reacted back in the potions classroom when Harry had just tried to talk to him. To be honest Harry didn't know what to make of it. His mind was a whirlwind of activity, that grew more and more distressed as they continued to walk in silence, Draco with his hands in his pockets and Harry a half a step behind. Was Draco experienced? Well obviously he was, he got that much from the kissing, but experienced in kissing boys? Did Draco like boys? He hadn't shown any sign of it, but then he had only ever seen him with Pansy and he hadn't seen them do much outside of a bit of cuddling, and that had been Pansy cuddling Draco come to think of it, not the other way around…

The more important question was, did he himself like boys? He loved Ginny, he had always found girls attractive, hadn't even thought about blokes before… not really, though Draco was nice looking for a guy, always had been with refined mannerisms and a delicate build, but it had been hard to notice before, since whenever Draco opened his mouth Harry had had an urge to punch him. And Draco… more importantly if Draco didn't want anything to do with him why was he okay kissing him? That was the part that puzzled Harry most of all.

They had reached the school, to the point at where they'd have to split off so that Draco could go back to the Slytherin dungeons and Harry to Gryffindor tower, when Draco finally stopped, turned around to look at him.

Draco took one look at his face… then burst out laughing. Harry just stood there, staring as Draco half doubled up on himself, holding his sides. Harry finally allowed himself a bit of a smile, hoping a bit desperately that Draco would at least let him in on it, even if it was in the form of a couple mean comments directed towards his intellect.

"Oh, oh!" Draco managed to get out. He finally straightened a bit, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes, though Harry wasn't sure if they were real tears or if he was being put on. "You should see the look on your face, Potter. Ha ha!" and he laughed some more.

"It's not funny," Harry finally pointed out, a bit hurt despite himself.

Draco looked at him, still smiling, but at least the laughter was gone. For the most part. "You look like you have no idea what you're doing," he said a bit unkindly.

"That's because I _don't_," Harry snapped back, irritated now. He made a violent hand gesture down towards the lake. "What the hell was that, Malfoy?"

Draco gave him a superior look. "It's called snogging, Potter. I'm sure you've heard of it. Goodness knows your horrible Weasley friend does it enough with the mudblood. You must have picked _something_ up from those two."

"I _know_ what snogging is," Harry returned indignantly. "And don't call Herm—"

He was cut off when Draco stepped forwards and kissed him again, quick, hard, and very deliberately. Harry froze and almost pushed him away when Draco stepped back again on his own, turned heel and started off for Slytherin, leaving Harry to stare after him with his mouth hanging open. "See you in class tomorrow, Potter," Draco called back over his shoulder with a dismissive wave. "Try not to think too much."

Harry stared after him until he had disappeared from sight. "… easier said than done," he muttered.

.

Sure enough, Harry barely got any sleep that night.

…


	5. Truth

…

5. Truth

…

He was admittedly a wreck the next day, shooting furtive glances over his shoulder towards the Slytherin table at breakfast, and then trying desperately to catch Malfoy's eye in class. Even Ron and Hermione distracted away from each other at lunch long enough to ask Harry what was wrong.

He couldn't tell them, so made up some excuse about being nervous about giving his students their first exam. He followed up that with a "what if I'm a horrible teacher?" question, which got sympathy from Hermione, and a strange look from Ron.

"Blimey Harry, you taught this all before," Ron said, raising his eyebrow at him. "Remember Dumbledore's Army?"

"Yes but I never tested you on it," Harry replied.

"You're a really great teacher Harry, you'll do fine," Hermione said reassuringly. She got up from the table. "Speaking of class," She gathered up her books. "See you both later?"

Harry nodded and so did Ron. As soon as she was gone Harry glanced at the Slytherin table once again, but Malfoy had left already. Harry gulped and got to his feet as well.

.

Draco wouldn't tell anyone. Harry had convinced himself of that at least by dinner time, when not a single word of anything to do with him or Draco had reached him.

He tried to reassure himself that Draco would probably show discretion, if just because of the fact that he was a willing participant in their little tryst. But he was worried because he also wouldn't put it past Malfoy to make up some twisted version of events. Even if he just denied it, Harry really didn't want even more attention, especially attention in the area that involved his admittedly non-existent sex life.

But Malfoy still didn't look at him during dinner no matter how many times Harry looked at him.

He really needed something to curb his paranoia… unfortunately to do that he needed to talk to Draco and he highly doubted Draco would be willing to say or do anything to set his mind at rest.

Harry very nearly dropped his head in his hands and groaned. What was he thinking anyway? Why the hell did he kiss Draco back in the first place? Did he really want to deal with all this? No, obviously he wasn't thinking at all…

.

As soon as he reasonably could Harry escaped from the tower that evening and made his way down to the potions classroom. As expected, Malfoy in there, alone, brewing something or other. Harry wondered briefly if all his brewing was really for class, or if he was doing this stuff for fun.

He stood against the doorframe and waited. He was trying to think of what to say if Draco decided to ignore him again, because if he did Harry was definitely going to have to say something. He just didn't know what yet. Really, what do you say to the volatile boy who hates you and kissed you just so that he could get rid of you?

Harry had no idea.

He sunk his hands in his pockets and cleared his throat nervously.

Draco glanced up at him, looking beyond irritable. "Are you coming or going Potter, or are you going to stand there holding up the doorframe all evening?"

Harry never felt more relieved at being snarked at in his entire life. He pulled away from the door and shuffled into the classroom.

"Shut the door behind you, would you, you're letting in a draft," Draco added as he went back to his potion.

Harry froze.

Shut the door…? His heart skipped a beat at the thought of being alone in a room with Draco, though he didn't know if it was from sudden arousal or terror and probably a twisted version of the two. He reached out and pulled the door closed behind him as he tried to batten down his emotions. He was here to talk. That was all.

Once he was done shutting the door he shuffled over to a desk and sat in it, watching as Draco went about brewing without another word. A couple minutes later Harry was beginning to get restless, shifted, and cleared his throat again. Draco dropped what he was doing and went over to the desk he shared with Professor Slughorn. He picked up a pile of parchments and carried them over, dropping them in front of Harry.

"What's this?" Harry asked, blinking down at the papers.

"Exams," Draco replied a bit nastily. "You can help me mark."

Harry's jaw dropped open but before he could protest Draco had already left to go back to his brewing.

Harry watched him go, then sighed, shrugged and accio'ed a quill and some ink over to himself. At least marking first years was easy. He knew the answers from years of practice.

"I didn't realize Gineva Clearwater was good at potions," Harry commented about an hour later after he had finished off most of the stack, making small talk about one of the students. "She's dreadful in defense, almost as bad with a wand as Neville was."

Draco shrugged. "Perhaps you're a horrible teacher, Potter."

Harry shot him a look. "I've taught a lot more than you have, Malfoy."

Draco made a face. "Yes, so I heard. Last year. All the time." He paused and gave Harry a withering glare and reached up to rub at his shoulder. "Perhaps if you were a better at teaching that annoying little group of yours would have been better at controlling themselves."

Harry processed that, and then frowned, getting up from his seat. He moved around the table, reaching out to touch Malfoy's shoulder. Draco went to jerk away, then sighed and let Harry touch him.

"What happened?" Harry asked as he slid behind Draco and started to kneed the shoulder gently.

Draco sighed again. "You won't like it," he said. His head fell to the side as he relaxed a bit more. Since he looked like he didn't mind the shoulder massage, Harry kept doing it.

"Undoubtedly," Harry replied. "I didn't like a lot of things that happened last year," he added honestly. "Actually probably all of it."

Draco let out a little snort of laughter, which sounded and felt genuine from where it vibrated through where Harry was touching him. Harry nearly stopped in shocked amazement that Draco had found something he said funny, then kept on going with the shoulder, flushing a bit, a grin on his face.

Draco let him continue for a couple seconds more before carefully extracting his shoulder from Harry's hand and taking a couple steps away so that he could lean up against the desks opposite Harry. "Cruciatus," he said finally. "Crabbe and Goyle were big on performing it… I found it… distasteful," he made a face and studied the wall. "But I did once or twice. _**Professors**_orders," he paused. "Longbottom cursed me down a staircase after that last class. Landed badly," he shrugged again then turned back to look at Harry, taking in the expression on his face. "I'm not proud of it, Potter!" he said angrily and Harry blinked.

"I didn't say anything," Harry replied. The way Draco had said that… all of it, made Harry think that Draco was probably telling the truth. That made him glad… maybe it meant Draco trusted him somewhat. Harry determined right then that he'd try not to spoil this.

Draco snorted and continued, still not looking at Harry. "It was his fault anyway, he got cursed so much. If he had just kept his stupid mouth shut they would have let him off. Pureblood and all that. But no, he was always talking back to them, questioning them, it made them angry and called attention to the rest of us trying to get by withOUT being cursed," his hand tightened on the edge of the desk. "By the end of it… I just wanted him to be quiet…" his voice trailed off.

"He was fighting a war, Draco," Harry said quietly.

"Oh, right," Draco returned, voice caustic. "And he was doing such a good job of it too, nearly landing himself in the mad house with his parents. Nearly took half of the school with him," he folded his arms across his chest now, pouting. "Not that I wouldn't have minded," he added bitterly.

Harry felt pained. He knew, mentally, that there was nothing he could have done for Malfoy or Neville or any of them, but he wished, very badly, that he could have. But no, what was done was done, he needed to be out looking for the Horcruxes, which left Neville to lead a much more dangerous war on the school grounds.

"I'm sorry," Harry said. "I wish I could have…" he paused. "Done something. Come to help. But I couldn't…"

Draco gave him a surprised look, then frowned. "Well it's good you didn't. If you had come you would have been just as stupid as him. What could have you done anyway, Potter? Killed them both? Like you could," he snorted, then continued. "And if you did manage to kill our professors, then what? The same thing would have happened, they'd be on you like a swarm, and half the students would have died," he paused. "At least the way it happened _most_ of us got out," he added, sulkily, and Harry frowned, knowing that Malfoy was thinking about Crabbe.

Harry opened his mouth, then closed it again and sighed. "You never know, Malfoy," he said quietly. "I got everyone out of your house alive. Well, except for…" he trailed off.

"Luck, Potter," Draco cut him off. "Stupid blind luck that you seem to be gifted with. And luck that Granger loves dirty half-breeds as much as she does, or else that traitorous elf wouldn't have been so quick to rescue you."

Harry stared at Draco, and Draco stared back, chin raised slightly. Harry was the first to look away. "I'm sorry," he said. He was partially apologizing for how Draco and his family were tortured by Voldemort right after he had escaped from his house, but he didn't think Draco knew that.

Draco let out an exasperated sigh. "Don't be. You rescued Granger before my aunt could permanently addle her brains, unfortunate for that, mind, and got the filth out of my parent's cellar," Draco paused and the silence was uncomfortable, partly because Harry didn't appreciate his friends being insulted but was determined not to say anything. He shifted a bit, inspecting his feet and Draco looked him over silently. "They all owe you their lives," he added quietly.

Harry looked back up at Draco, and then smiled slowly. "I never knew you cared," he said, and really did mean it.

Draco looked annoyed and turned back to his potions. "I don't," he said and Harry continued to grin.

Harry watched Draco's back for a moment, then felt his stomach swoop almost before he knew what he was going to do. He stepped forwards, towards Draco and reached out, tugging on his arm. Draco turned and looked at him, scowling, and Harry leaned towards him to kiss him.

He was going in for a quick kiss, unsure of how Draco would react and knowing full well that he might jerk away, especially after this conversation. But he didn't, and after a moment Draco leaned into the kiss himself, dropping what he was doing in order to hold Harry by the waist. Harry looped his arms around Draco's shoulders, eagerly deepening the kiss.

The kiss was long and sweet, and ended with Draco gently shoving Harry back so he fell against the desks opposite where his potion was brewing. He broke away then, pulling back so that he could inspect Harry's face. Harry wondered what he was looking for when Draco spoke.

"I have no idea what is going through that thick head of yours, Potter, if there is in fact anything in there at all," Draco finally said. Harry gave him a confused look, and Draco elaborated. "I just confessed to torturing one of your friends."

"Last year was bad for everyone," Harry replied firmly, as if this was the end of the matter. Yes, sure, Malfoy's confession upset him, but he also knew this was something that bothered Draco, and that made Harry glad. It was always good to know the boy he currently snogging had a conscience, even if it was a small and somewhat broken one. "And I don't think Neville holds it against you," Harry continued. "He never mentioned you at all. Mentioned Crabbe and Goyle though," he added and Draco made a quick humorless smile and didn't reply.

Harry wondered if that meant he was okay to kiss Draco again, and leaned up. Draco moved back further, frustrating that idea. Harry fell back with a bit of a disappointed huff.

Draco eyed him. "Why are you doing this?" he asked.

Harry considered. "I like it," he shrugged a bit sheepishly. "It feels good?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Ugh, you're such a Gryffindor. 'It feels good'," he mimicked. "Of course it feels good, you daft git, it's supposed to."

"… And you're really very good looking," Harry continued quite honestly. "For a bloke." He added almost as an afterthought. "Is it so hard to believe I might fancy you?"

Now Draco was giving him the look that said he had just grown two heads. Again. "Fancy… me," he repeated slowly.

Harry nodded. Draco didn't say anything. "It's you who doesn't like me," Harry pointed out when he had had enough of being stared at.

Well, that got Draco to do something at least. Draco's face closed off, lip curling up into a sneer. "Really, Potter, is that so?" he ground out. And with that Draco grabbed him by the shoulders and yanked him in for a searing kiss.

That would be a yes he does like me, Harry thought happily, until his brain became too involved with what was happening to think about anything else.

Harry finally broke away, partly to take his glasses off and put them on a different desk. He leaned back in to kiss Draco again, then paused. "Potion?" he asked against his mouth.

Draco let out a little and, Harry discovered, incredibly sexy growl and turned on a dime. In one swift move he had turned the fire off and clamped a lid over the potion before turning back again and sacking Harry. They tumbled to the ground between the desks in a tangle of limbs. Harry soon found himself pressed up against the chilly stone work and suddenly glad that the house elves swept the floors with dedication every night. He didn't have that much time to think about it though because he had Draco Malfoy on top of him currently, and that was occupying most of his ability to think. Especially since he was sucking on his neck right now, hands skimming down the length of his body, tugging his shirt free. Cool fingers touched the bare skin of Harry's stomach for a second before moving smoothly down to between his legs and cupping him firmly.

Harry let out a small yelp, then groan, and Draco pulled away a bit to study his face. "You're hard," he said with a smirk.

Not to be outdone, Harry pushed up off the floor and very quickly flipped Draco over so that the other boy was on his back. Draco looked surprised, then Harry reached down and put his hand between Draco's legs as well. Harry felt odd for half a second, it was the first time he had ever touched a man who wasn't himself, but at the same time he was incredibly happy to feel that Draco was just as aroused as he was. "So are you," he returned with a smile, then leaned over to press a fierce kiss to Draco's lips. Draco groaned and bucked up into his hand and, obliging Harry began to rub him through the fabric of his trousers.

He felt a hand between his own legs moments later and Harry let out a moan as Draco's hand returned the favor, stopping only seconds later to fumble with his belt. Harry did the same, eagerly, and now it became a race to see who would get there the fastest, and almost as quickly as he had his hands into Draco's pants Draco had done the same to him, pulling him free so that Harry could feel the cool air of the room against his flesh. Draco let out a little huff of satisfaction, leaning up to meet Harry in an open mouthed kiss. With a few last triumphant motions Harry had Draco's own trousers yanked down far enough to free the other.

He ran his hand up and down Draco's cock, enjoying the feel of it, it was much like his own to be honest. He was curious but far far to gone to slow down and inspect. He needed to get off, now, as soon as possible and a low warning growl was all the notice he gave Draco before he rolled completely on top of him, pressing down against him. Draco made a little noise of protest but at the same time the dick in Harry's hand twitched and grew harder. Harry grinned and moved his mouth down to worry the skin of Draco's ear as he rubbed against him. Their cocks moved against each other and Draco let out a small, pleased yelp, hands flying up, wrapping his arms around Harry as he moved against him at the same time. Harry heard Draco whisper an obscenity under his breath and then Draco let him go to reach between their bodies to grasp them both in his hand. Now it was Harry's turn to swear, his eyes squeezing shut, panting, and he knew he wasn't going to last much longer.

To his surprise it was Draco who came first, his head throwing back and a keening whine escaping his throat. Harry clamped down on the welcoming flesh of the exposed neck, sucking and biting as liquid warmth wrapped around his cock and Draco's furiously moving hand. Draco sunk, limply against the floor, breathing hard, gazing up at Harry with glazed eyes.

That was nearly all it took to take Harry over the edge himself. He held himself up on one arm, reached between them and grabbed his own dick, wanking it furiously. The errant thought crossed his mind that he was about to cum all over a rather debauched looking Draco, while the other was trapped beneath him on the floor and that was the end of that. Harry came, hitching sounds escaping him as he jerked and threw his own head back, gasping for air.

He was barely aware of the fingers ghosting over his cheek as he came but he looked down again to see Draco gazing up at him with an enduring expression that he had never seen on his face before. Harry gasped one last time and collapsed, at the last second catching his fall so he didn't crush the other, placing his head against his chest instead as he laid mostly off to the side. He remained there and listened to the sound of Draco's slowing heart beat though the cloth of his shirt, thoroughly enjoying how Draco's hands were now playing with his hair, tugging at the unruly locks then smoothing them down again.

Harry lifted his head briefly to nuzzle at Draco's neck before raising his head all the way to look at Draco's face. The other boy looked at him questioningly, and, giddy that Draco didn't seem angry or upset, Harry leaned down and kissed him again. This time the kiss was slow, somewhat chaste and brilliant. Harry let out a happy sigh and returned his head to Draco's chest, but not before catching the small smile on Draco's face.

They laid like that for several minutes more, until Harry was half asleep, uncaring of the increasingly uncomfortable wetness between them or how his trousers were still half pulled down with his arse exposed for all the world to see.

Draco spoke first with a little sigh. "It's late," he said.

"Mmm," Harry replied sleepily.

"Early classes tomorrow," Draco continued.

"Mmm," Harry really didn't want to think about class. Maybe the first years could teach themselves for a change.

Draco paused. "What do you _eat_, Potter?"

"mmm- uh?" Harry lifted his head to peer up at Draco, confused.

"Get off of me, you're heavy," Draco translated, shoving at him as he did so, and sitting up. Harry reluctantly sat up as well, giving Draco a somewhat lost sad look.

Draco ignored him, hitching up his trousers, then got out his wand, pointing it at his torso. He uttered a cleaning spell, then looked at Harry and pointed his wand at him, cleaning up Harry as well.

Harry sighed and got up. He retrieved his glasses, brushed himself off. He watched as Draco returned to his very forgotten potion, intent, it seemed on cleaning up. His quick purposeful motions told Harry it was over without having to say anything.

Harry drifted towards the door. He turned though before he reached it, unable to leave without saying something…

"Will I see you tomorrow?" Harry asked.

Draco looked up at him, surprised, and then cast his eyes heavenward. "Undoubtedly, Potter, and the day after that and the day after that. In fact every day you'll see me, until the day I can finally get out of this stupid school once and for all."

Harry grinned. He had stopped listening at 'every day'. "Cool," he said and just stood there.

Draco gave him a curious look, then sighed again and actually reached up to rub his forehead. Then he walked across the room, took Harry by the shoulders, turned him around and pushed him towards the door.

"Go," Draco said. When Harry turned back again, just enough to look at Draco, Draco leaned forwards and kissed him quickly. "Go," he repeated against his lips.

He went reluctantly.

.

Harry was in such a daze that it took him until he got all the way back to the Gryffindor towers to realize he hadn't asked Draco if he intended to tell anyone or not. And now Draco had a little bit more than snogging to talk about.

He didn't get much sleep that night either. But at least he got in a couple good wanks. Obviously he was getting more comfortable with this entire thing he seemed to have going on with Draco, he reflected as he stared at the ceiling of his room in the tower. He was also very glad Ron spent most of his nights with Hermione...

…


	6. Revelations

.

6. Revelations

.

Harry didn't see Draco much at all the next day, except for some quick glimpses at meal times. During the class they shared, Draco completely ignored him, and left before Harry could call out to him. Harry tried his best not to feel disappointed. A quick go on the floor of a classroom wasn't anything that sealed them together as boyfriend and… boyfriend. Harry's cheeks flared up in embarrassment at that, and he quickly looked down at his dinner before anyone could notice. Now his mind seemed content to remind him, yet again, of all the reasons why doing anything with Malfoy was not the brightest idea in the whole world.

.

He had been studying that evening, or at least trying to, when both Ron and Hermione came and stood around the chair he was sitting on.

Harry looked up and quickly shut the book. "What is it?" he asked, instantly concerned. They both looked distressed. Well that, or guilty. Harry hoped against hope that this had absolutely nothing to do with Malfoy.

Hermione started. "Oh Harry," she said. "We're sorry."

Harry looked and felt confused. "What about?" he asked.

Ron exchanged a look with Hermione that spoke of bad things to come and Harry steeled himself for the worst.

"We just finished talking to Draco," Hermione said. Ron nodded.

Okay that was the worst. Harry's heart decided to take off like a freight train. So he told them, did he? "W-what did he say?" Harry managed to get out, his hands gripping the arms of the chair especially hard.

Ron cleared his throat, shuffled a bit and struck a pose with his hands on his hips. "'Maybe if you lot spent more time paying attention to your precious Harry Potter, I wouldn't have to,'" Ron repeated, trying somewhat unsuccessfully to mimic Draco's sneer and upturned nose at the same time. "'Some friends you are.'" Ron broke character and slumped his shoulders. "And then he kind of stomped off, angry like."

Harry stared. Malfoy had said that? That…really?

Hermione looked at Harry with great sad eyes, probably misinterpreting the shocked look on his face. "We're sorry Harry, we really are. I guess with school and… and everything," she slipped a sidelong glance at Ron. "We really haven't been been able to hang out with you as much as we used to."

"We will now mate," Ron said with a decisive nod. "Promise."

"It's okay, really," Harry was nodding, a smile on his face, ridiculously happy at the relatively minor fact that Draco had said he he was going to pay attention to him. His joy faded a bit as he realized that if Ron and Hermione spent more time with him, he wouldn't have as much opportunities to sneak off and try to spend more time with Draco…

Ron made a face. "What did Malfoy mean by paying attention to you, though?" he asked. "He isn't bothering you _again_, is he?"

Harry shook his head quickly. "No, of course not. At least not now," Ron looked skeptical and Harry drew in a deep breath and considered before speaking. "It's uh, just this teaching classes we're doing together. Sharing notes," he cleared his throat nervously. "He's, uh… he's really good at potions. Better than me. You know. Now," he studied his hands, trying to will himself not to blush.

Hermione reached out and put a hand on his knee. "Harry, it's okay if you want to spend time with him," she said, and Harry looked up at her, surprised. "I'm sure the war was hard on him too. He's different now."

"Different?" Harry replied, his voice suspiciously higher than it should have been. He cleared his throat again. "How so?"

Hermione considered. "He's quieter. I can't even remember the last time he called me a-," she paused. "Called me names. And a couple of the students in my Muggle Studies class said that he's a good teacher."

This was news to Harry. Apparently this was news to Ron too because he was now staring at Hermione. "Wait," Ron said. "They said that about Malfoy? MALFOY? Same Malfoy who used to terrorize first years and anyone else he could get his hands on?"

Hermione nodded, smiling now. "Yes, same Malfoy," she said with a bit of a laugh. She sat down on the couch beside Harry, placing her books in her lap. Ron followed her lead and sat beside the couch. "I DO think someone is making him do it however," she said thoughtfully.

Harry looked at her. "Making him do it?" he asked, confused. Draco hadn't shown any signs of being made to do anything…

Hermione shook her head. "I don't think he'd have come back here if he hadn't had to, let alone teach a class. He doesn't exactly fit in, I'm sure you've noticed, Harry. I'd almost say someone's been keeping an eye on him to make sure he doesn't do anything bad. He is a former Death Eater after all. The Ministry may be involved."

Harry frowned, the conversation with Draco by the side of the lake coming back to him. 'If the Ministry put you up to this'. It would explain why Malfoy had been so suspicious about him being up to something. Well beyond the fact that had been at each others throats for six of the last seven years. "But why would the Ministry do that?" Harry asked. "They let him off, I was at the trial, Hermione."

Hermione gave him a look. "Just because he wasn't sent to Azkaban doesn't mean they let him go completely. Don't you think it's strange Harry, that they let his _entire_ family go? I read the papers, him and his father were the only Death Eaters who were released. Everyone else is in Azkaban, and now Draco has to come back to Hogwarts? It's obvious he hates it here," she paused. "It sounds an awful lot like punishment if you ask me. I'd even say that they've probably been making his parents do services for the Ministry as well."

Harry considered that. "I suppose it makes sense," Harry said finally and eyed Hermione. "Why didn't you mention this before?" he asked a bit plaintively.

Hermione actually looked embarrassed and looked at the books in her lap. "I had thought about it, but I didn't think it was important enough to bring up before," she shrugged and paused significantly before continuing, obviously picking her words carefully. "Maybe hanging around you, Harry," she said quietly. "Will make being here less horrible for him."

"Not that he deserves it," Ron piped up. "Hermione you know all the things he's said about you over the years. And to me, and Harry," he gestured to both of them. "Not to mention that he tried to kill Dumbledore and nearly bloody killed me. How can you possibly care what happens to him? Let them punish him all they want, he deserves it and more."

Hermione looked at him, then looked at Harry and back to Ron again. "Everyone deserves a second chance, Ronald," she said, her voice clipped.

"No they don't!" Ron returned. "Especially not Malfoy."

"Oi," Harry said, before they could really get going, and before he defended Malfoy as well and made Ron hate him for a couple of weeks. "I'm going to go to the library," he said, getting up.

Hermione nodded and distracted from the brewing argument long enough to give him a quick smile.

"Cheers, Harry," Ron said, waving a bit.

Harry made straight for the potions classroom, only to find it locked up and Draco was nowhere in sight. Frustrated and not wanting to go back to the tower in case his friends were still fighting, Harry ended up going to the library like he said he was going to. That was where Hermione found him a short time later, her eyes red. She sat down next to Harry.

Harry just looked at her. "Please tell me you didn't have a fight about Malfoy," he groaned.

Hermione smiled a bit and shook her head. "It's not that… he just… he's so insensitive sometimes," she said, referring to Ron, and a fresh wave of tears were threatened. Harry quickly put his book down to wrap his arm around her.

"I don't even _like_ Draco," she said into his shoulder a while later, with a small laugh that sounded suspiciously like a sob.

Harry let out a small laugh of his own at that, but it wasn't very funny.

"I mean I know you like him now, Harry, and that's fine, but I…" she paused as Harry stiffened, then raised her head to look at him.

"I do not," Harry swallowed and tried to glare and Hermione gave him that enduring, 'I love you but you are dumb' look.

"I'm your _friend_, Harry," Hermione said. "You don't think I would have noticed? I've seen the way you look at over at his table in the hall. You stare at him in class. It's obvious."

Stare at him? Harry groaned and let his head fall back on the couch. "How long have you known?" he asked finally.

When he raised his head again he saw that Hermione was looking up at him with a genuine smile on her face. "At least a month," she said gently. "Definitely the last two or three weeks."

Two or three weeks… that had been around the time they had the fight in the potions classroom and when Draco had started to actively ignore Harry. Of course Harry had been trying to get Draco's attention during that time, with admittedly limited results.

Harry wondered at that. He thought Hermione and Ron weren't paying any attention to him. Wasn't that why they had come to him in the first place about what Malfoy had said? Harry stifled another groan. Apparently nothing could escape Hermione...

Harry drew in a deep breath and decided something. He looked around the library to see if anyone was listening, but no one was nearby. He looked back at Hermione. "It's been two days," he said in an embarrassed near whisper.

"Two days that you've been friends…?" Hermione replied, sounding confused. Harry shot her a guilty look and Hermione trailed off. She gave him a puzzled frown, then drew back from him quickly, her eyes wide. "Oh," she said and gasped, putting a hand over her mouth. Her face twisted into something that looked like fascinated repulsion. "OH. Oh Harry, _really_? But I thought you and Ginny…?"

"Yeah… well, that didn't really work out did it," Harry muttered. Now he wished very much that the ground would swallow him up whole and he looked away from her, mortified. Maybe letting Hermione find out wasn't the best idea… he picked at the arm of the chair nervously.

When he looked finally got the courage up to look at her again Hermione was studying him closely. "How far?" she asked.

Harry groaned out loud. "Hermione…" he began and she quickly put up a hand to still his protest.

"You're right, and I really really don't want to know," she agreed. A thinking frown came over her face and she spoke carefully. "I knew he used to try to get your attention, and he had an absolutely appalling way of going about it, but I never guessed…" she shook her head and frowned, then her eyes widened. "Unless... was it your idea or his?" she asked turning her head and giving Harry a hard look.

"I'm not sure… his. I think. The first time at least," and Harry flushed a deeper red and resisted the urge to put his head in his hands.

There was an awkward silence between them, which Hermione broke. "Harry," she said gently, reaching out and placing her hand on his shoulder. When he looked up at her she was giving him a concerned look, but didn't seem to be very upset. She drew in a deep breath and put on a brave smile. "As long as you're happy, I'm happy," she said, then paused. "I just don't want to see you get hurt."

Harry nodded. "Thanks, I appreciate it," he said and they fell silent once again. Hermione folded her hands on her lap and Harry gnawed a nail absently. Finally Harry looked up and gave her a somewhat desperate look. "Does Ron have to know?" he asked.

"Absolutely not," Hermione said with utter conviction. Then she looked at him and burst out laughing. Luckily Hermione's laughter was a bit infectious, soon Harry was smiling as well.

.

Two days went by, then three and still Harry had had no contact with Draco. He wasn't in the potions classroom one of the days and the second and third day the door was firmly closed and charmed shut. At meals Draco sat alone, barely talked to anyone at his table and ate quickly. He never looked up at Harry the entire time. Harry caught more than a couple concerned looks from Hermione.

Harry had even snagged Malfoy after class and asked if they could talk, but he shook his head. "Not now, Potter," he had replied, giving him an irritated look. "Later," he relented when he saw the look on Harry's face, and quickly swept off his next class.

.

"Harry," Hermione said finally, late that evening when she found Harry alone in the Gyffindor common room, studying a scroll for one of his own classes. "You need to talk to him."

Harry looked up, surprised, then returned his attention to the scroll. "He said 'not now'," Harry replied.

Hermione sat down next to him. "When was that?" she asked.

"Yesterday," Harry said.

Hermione nodded. "Try again," she said.

Harry looked up from his scroll again. "It's Malfoy," he said, making a face. "Talking to him isn't exactly the easiest thing to do. If I push it, he gets upset." he paused. "And he's horrible when he's upset."

"He's horrible when he isn't upset," Hermione retorted quickly, then her face softened. "Harry," she said with a soft sigh. "I don't know what you did or how far it went but if he doesn't want to be around you or even talk to you," she trailed off for a moment then kept going. "Then it probably didn't mean all that much to him," she looked like she was in pain, though Harry didn't know if that was because of the subject matter or something else. "I'm sorry Harry," she added, looking and sounding incredibly sad.

Harry merely looked at her. Hermione reached out, touching his arm, wide brown eyes full of concern, and lowered her voice. "I know it hurts, Harry. And I know it's hard. But I can't stand to see you like this. Please. I don't think he realizes what he's doing to you." She paused and withdrew her hand. "Or... maybe he does," Now she looked angry. "I'll talk to him," she said.

A mental image popped up in Harry's mind, a bit unbidden, of Draco cowering from a very upset Hermione intent on hexing him halfway round the school. "No, I'll do it," Harry said quickly. He drew in a deep breath and put down the scroll. He got up and sighed, then went off to get his invisibility cloak and the Maurader's map.

.

Draco's footprints were in the Slytherin dungeons, not unexpectedly, Harry saw as he made his way through the school. Those footprints were walking about in a circle, over and over again, and that worried Harry a bit. Something had gotten Draco to the point where he was pacing and despite being hurt over being ignored for the last couple days, Harry hoped he was okay...

Once he got to the Slytherin house he impatiently laid in wait for someone to go by and say the password.

It was a third or fourth year student Harry didn't know who finally "let him in". Harry snuck through the rooms, first past the main common room and then, watching his map, down a corridor, up a set of stairs and down another. He paused outside of a smaller room containing a couple couches and chairs, some small tables, and a fireplace. The map said that Draco was in the room and, oh, there he was crouching in front of the fire.

Harry quietly snuck into the room and paused. The room had a silencing charm on it. He knew because now he could hear the crackle of the fire and the sound of Draco's low voice speaking when he hadn't heard either when he was in the corridor.

"… as it's going to be, mother," Draco's polite voice carried across the room to him. Harry went to take off the invisibility cloak and paused. Draco was on a fire call to his mother obviously… and he had placed a silencing charm up? He stood there without moving, curious and dreading a bit to hear whatever it was that Draco wanted to keep hidden.

"As long as you're safe, dear," came the cool clear voice of Narcissa Malfoy and Harry relaxed a bit. Just a family chat then.

"How is father today?" Draco continued and Harry perked up again.

"Better than yesterday," came the reply. "He'll make a full recovery," she added and Harry could hear Draco's small sigh of relief.

"I am glad to hear of it," Draco said.

"Keep me updated on your progress," Narcissa said.

"I will, mother," was the reply and Draco stood up, ending the call. Harry carefully took off his cloak and stuffed it in his robes. Draco stood there quietly, staring at the mantle place, thin white hands clasped behind his back.

Harry let him be for a long moment. When Draco didn't move for a while he stepped out of the shadows. "What happened to your dad?" he asked.

Draco jerked around and stared at him, complete and utter shock on his face. That lasted all of half a second as Draco wretched out his wand. "Again with the eavesdropping, Potter?" he snarled.

… Again? Also why was Draco attacking him… Harry barely had time to get his own wand out to defend himself as Draco sent a curse hurtling at him.

Harry dodged. Not again, he thought. "Expelliarm-"

"Expulso!"

The table directly in front of Harry exploded, bits of shrapnel flying forwards and Harry leapt out of its way, dodging behind a couch. "Draco, stop!" he cried out. "I just came here to talk, we'll get in trouble!"

"You're the one sneaking about the Slytherin dungeons, Potter, how am I going to get in trouble for that?" Draco shot back at him.

"I didn't come to spy on you," Harry replied indignantly, then had to scamper out from behind that couch to behind another as Draco hit the first couch with a curse that made it slam forwards into the wall.

"Get out of there, Potter," Draco yelled.

"I don't want to fight!" Harry yelled back. Another curse flew above the couch Harry was behind to hit the wall in front of Harry, exploding into painful rays of light. Harry shielded his face with his arm. "Draco, COME ON," he hit his head against the back of the couch in frustration.

There was silence and all Harry could hear was the crackling of the fire. Then: "Talk. Fast."

Harry carefully got to his feet, peaking out first to make sure Draco wasn't going to curse him on sight. He had his wand lowered, but was glaring at Harry. Harry glared back as he stood, then looked, really looked at Draco. The other young man had deep circles under his eyes and looked exhausted to go with the cranky and irritable. "Are you all right?" Harry asked.

A look of surprise crossed Draco's face, which was replaced quickly with confusion. "You broke into Slytherin to ask me if I am all right?" Draco said slowly. Now the expression on his face clearly stated that he thought Harry was either mad or stupid or possibly both.

"Well, no," Harry replied a bit sheepishly. "I came here because we need to talk," he said.

"About what?" Draco said, glaring at him.

"About us," Harry replied with considerable significance.

Draco looked surprised for half a second. Then his eyes narrowed and he let out a snort of laughter. "Us? There is no 'us', Potter," he sneered. "I'm sorry that you seemed to think that there was," With that and with his head high, he turned deliberately back towards the fire place.

Harry swallowed. That hurt. Badly, and he could feel rage swell up inside of him. He opened his mouth to snap back a retort about how it certainly hadn't seemed like nothing, when he stopped suddenly.

Draco's shoulders were shaking. Not a lot, and it was barely noticeable, but it was definitely there.

Harry frowned. He slid his wand in to his pocket and stepped quietly across the room, coming closer to where Draco stood. He stopped when he was only an arm's length away. "Draco?" he questioned, willing the other to turn around.

He wouldn't, and when he spoke it was a barely audible whisper. "Go away," he said and the shaking increased. "Please. Just leave."

Harry had no intention of doing that. Instead he reached out and touched Draco's shoulder and, when, Draco wrenched it away, grabbed him again. They wrestled briefly, Draco determined to get away and Harry determined not to let him and, in the end Harry won. He held Draco to him with the other boy's back pressed against his front, arms crossed in front of him and pinned to his chest. Harry didn't apply pressure… he didn't have to. Draco gave up easily, sagging against him. Harry could definitely hear that he was crying now, soft wretched sounds, and Harry pressed his cheek against Draco's hair, eyes sliding closed as he listened.

It didn't last very long. Draco quieted by degrees then fell silent. When enough time had passed Harry slowly and reluctantly loosened his hold. Draco drew in a deep breath, steadying himself as Harry stepped away. "You should go," Draco said finally, his voice rough.

Harry was quiet. "I don't want to," he confessed after a moment and Draco drew in a sharp breath.

"Potter…" Draco began, his voice stronger now, and Harry felt that this would rapidly turn into another argument if he pressed that.

"What happened to your father?" Harry asked instead, changing the subject. He had a feeling that Draco's rejection of him and rapid breakdown had something to do with his family and if his dad was attacked...

"Nothing," Draco said quickly, a bit too quickly and he squared his shoulders. He turned his head slightly so that he was looking at Harry in profile. "It doesn't matter Potter, nor concern you. It's not your place to get involved."

Harry rolled his eyes and grasped Draco's shoulder, tugging him about, forcing the other boy to look at him now. Draco did, pale red rimmed eyes focused on him. Yes, Draco definitely looked exhausted. Harry felt a flash of pity for him.

"Tell me," Harry said a bit stubbornly. Draco stared at him. "Draco, you just tried to curse me, several times, and you look like you're about to keel over," Now Draco looked indignant. "Just… tell me what's going on," Harry said with a sigh, especially since it looked like Draco was about to protest. "Please." Harry added, tired himself. He really didn't want to fight about this, he just wanted to know what was going on with Draco so he could fix it, or, failing that, provide some sort of support. That was what people in relationships did for each other was it not? And they _were_ involved, even if Draco seemed to think they weren't. He had had five very long days to think about it. Draco wasn't allowed to just declare it over... well he could, but Harry would prefer it if he didn't and...

Draco stared at him a bit more, then heaved a frustrated sigh. "Fine," he said, sounding as if the word came extraordinarily hard for him. Which it probably did. "Not here," he looked around the room. "How did you get in?"

"Invisibility cloak," Harry said.

Draco made a disgusted sound. "Put it on," he said. He raised his wand, muttering a couple spells under his breath. The couch righted it's self and the broken table knit back together. Harry got out his cloak and pulled it over his head.

Draco looked back towards where Harry was standing, eyes sliding over where Harry had been. "Good," he muttered. "Follow me," he added, turning heel.

Harry followed him silently.

…


	7. Alone

…

7. Alone

…

It was Goyle who had come out of the door down the hall, Harry could see him from where he was shuffling along behind Draco. He looked tired and was dressed in his sleeping clothes. "Malfoy," he greeted coldly, looking his former friend up and down.

"Evening Greg," Draco returned just as coldly, meeting his gaze. For a very brief second Harry wondered if the other boy was going to… do something to Draco, shove him aside maybe, but then Goyle let out a little snort and kept on walking. Harry pressed himself against the wall as the other Slytherin lumbered by, and watched as he disappeared into another room down the hall.

When Harry looked back up he saw that Draco had paused, his body slightly turned, eyes narrowed as he looked off down the hall where Goyle had disappeared. Then Draco shook his head slightly and went back to walking down the hall with single minded purpose. Harry had to scramble to catch up.

Draco stopped finally near the end of the hall in front of a nondescript door. He raised his wand and tapped the door with it. It opened soundlessly and he slipped inside. Harry stepped in after him.

Once inside Draco pointed at the door from the other side and muttered another spell, then stepped away from it, pocketing his wand. He then looked around, searching, his eyes locking on Harry as Harry took off the cloak. He nodded at him again once he had it off completely.

"Made it past Goyle did we," he said.

Harry nodded. "Yeah," he replied. He considered asking Draco about the looks the two had exchanged but thought better of it. He could save that for when he wasn't a somewhat unwanted house guest in the Slytherin dungeons.

Instead Harry looked around. He wasn't surprised about the silver and green color scheme but he was surprised to find the room empty, even though there were four beds in it. Three of them were obviously vacant, nothing existed around them to show other students were sleeping there, but around one of them was a trunk and a small bedside table with a lamp perched on it. Malfoy's bed undoubtedly. "Where's the rest of the students?" Harry asked. Even now he still had to share a room with Ron, and he was in his last year. Only Hermione got a room to herself, partly because she had opted for a room that was about the size of a closet.

Malfoy shrugged. "I'm sure you've noticed the lack of other Slytherin students this year," he said drily. He walked over to sit on his bed, took off his shoes carefully and climbed into the bed further, leaning back against the headboard with a small tired sigh.

Harry cautiously followed him and sat on the opposite end of the bed. He was very aware of Malfoy's eyes on him and ducked his head, trying not to feel nervous and failing miserably at that.

Draco broke the ice for him. "My father," Draco began. Harry turned his head to look at him. Draco was studying a corner of the room, his arms folded across his chest. "Was attacked the other day while out and about. He survived of course, as you probably overheard," Draco turned his head around to glare at Harry again and Harry managed a half shrug as if to say sorry. "Still, it means even more meddling members of the Ministry keeping an eye on my family. They're practically prisoners in their own home now," the bitterness in his voice was evident.

Harry blinked. "So they are being watched then," he said, almost to himself. "I thought that after being let go…"

Draco stared at Harry. "Did you think they'd be free to go wherever they want now? After the war?" he said. "You really _are_ thick, Potter."

Harry glared a bit. "I didn't know," he returned, then sat up straight. "No one ever told me what was going on before the war either," he defended himself. "I'm always the last to know anything."

Draco looked surprised for half a second, then flashed a quick smile. "I always noticed that about you Potter," he said, amusement dancing in his voice. "How incredibly oblivious you were to everything around you when things were dangling right in front of your nose. You had it down to an art, I must say."

"Hey! It's not my fault I-" Harry began to defend himself, when Draco nudged him with his foot. Harry stopped abruptly and stared, especially when said foot grasped the fabric of the hem of his shirt and tugged on it. Harry looked up at Draco to find the other boy had a languid smirk on his face.

"Right," Harry said, and drew in a deep breath. "I thought you just said there was no "us", Malfoy," he said through gritted teeth.

Draco moved his foot and went back to staring off into a corner of the room. "There shouldn't be," he admitted finally, his voice very quiet.

Harry frowned, puzzled. That wasn't the reply he expected. He moved up the bed to get closer to Draco, trying to get him to look at him. "Why not?" he asked, honestly.

Draco looked back at him, his brow knit. "Because this is a mistake," he said bluntly.

When Harry just looked at him, Draco threw his hands in the air. "How can you possibly not see that it is, Potter? What are we going to do, date? Bring each other chocolates and love notes and flowers and whisper sweet nothings to each other in class? Do you think that the entire wizarding world would be as happy as could be that their precious hero is involved with a former _**Death Eater**_?"

Harry was taken a bit aback. "I never really thought about it that way," he admitted.

"Of course you didn't," Malfoy said with a sneer. "Because you don't _think_."

Harry was quiet for a moment. "We don't have to tell anyone," he offered.

Malfoy gave him an inscrutable look. "Could you really do that, Potter?" he asked. "Never mention it to any of your friends?" Harry bit his tongue at that, trying not to look guilty as Draco continued. "Because I know YOU, Potter, you don't do things half arsed, you never have, ever, in the eight years I've known you, and I don't expect you're suddenly going to start now. You're not going to be able to keep this a secret, no matter what you say. If we keep this up, if "US" happens, everyone will know in a matter of months … if not weeks and possibly days. EVERYONE." he paused and took in Harry's flinch. "Why do you think I've been avoiding you?" he added, his voice strained.

"You were avoiding me before," Harry pointed out.

Malfoy's face twisted. "I meant the last three days, you simpering idiot!" he yelled.

Harry flinched and smiled at the same time, glancing at Malfoy out of the corner of his eye. The other boy had his arms folded across his chest and was glowering at him. Harry smiled wider. For some reason being shouted at by Malfoy reminded him... well, it reminded him of Malfoy really. Old times.

Malfoy let out a sudden groan. "Did you even hear a word I said, Potter?" he asked. He rolled over onto his front and stuffed his head into a pillow. He said a lot more, but it was all muffled by the pillow. All Harry could catch was the word "stupid".

Harry all out grinned, which faded a bit when he thought about it. Draco was right. If they continued…

Harry decided. It was, amazingly, not a very hard decision to make. Harry drew in a deep breath and studied Draco. "It shouldn't matter," he said finally. At the same time his stomach was churning at the thought of letting Ron know, but he pressed on. "It shouldn't. You like me. I don't know why, but you do," he said. "And I like you, now that, you know, you're not trying to kill me and my friends and all that," he added. "That… that matters."

Draco lifted his head and just stared at him. Then he shut his eyes. "I knew this would happen," he groaned again and stuffed his head back into the pillow.

"Draco," Harry began, a bit exasperated.

Draco looked up, then sat up to face Harry again. The expression on his face looked more desperate than anything. "I wish you had just left," he said. "Left me alone. You'd have never found out," his voice caught a bit and he cleared his throat to cover it up before glaring at Harry and continuing. "Things would have been so much easier. Instead you had to follow me around with your stupid stalking and friendship and now you're sitting on my bloody bed and WHY did you have to go and complicate things, Potter?" he spat out that last bit angrily.

Harry shuffled up the bed so that he was sitting beside Draco, facing him. He leaned over and carefully, watching to make sure the other didn't lash out at him, though he was fairly sure they were past that point now, leaned down and pressed a kiss to Draco's lips. Draco didn't move but didn't resist either and Harry carefully pulled away again. When he looked at Draco there was that lost expression on his face again.

"I'm sorry," Harry said. At the same time he wasn't really sorry at all. No, he wanted this, he wanted to do this, and he really didn't care what anyone thought about him and Malfoy being together… Hermione accepted it and Ron… well he might hate him for a bit, but he'd come around. Hopefully. Harry squared his shoulders and kissed Draco again, slower this time and this time Draco responded, reaching up to thread his arms around Harry's neck. They kissed for a bit then Harry pulled away when he remembered why he was there in the first place. "I'm sorry to hear about your father as well," he added politely.

Draco's eyes narrowed, though he didn't let go of Harry. "You hate my father," he pointed out.

"A bit," Harry agreed neutrally.

Draco suddenly went white and let go of Harry to flop back down on the bed. "Father," he said, as if remembering something. He looked back up at Harry with a glare. "You can tell my father about this," he said decisively. "And my mother."

It was Harry's turn to look traumatized and he sat back quickly. "I'm not…" he considered. "Maybe we can keep it a secret for a while?" he asked a bit hopefully. "Just a little while," he added quickly. "I need to break it to Ron slowly anyway," he made a face. "Or he won't talk to me for another four months at least." When he looked up again at Draco he saw the other boy was smirking at him at the mention of Ron, but it was a look that quickly turned into something else.

"You're serious about this, Potter," he said, looking both disgusted and amazed at the same time.

"Yes," Harry said with conviction, then paused and wondered if there was a catch or if Draco was going to laugh at him and tell him he didn't mean a word of it. He steeled himself for that, but it never came. When he looked up again Draco was just studying him quietly.

"What?" he asked a bit defensively.

Draco just shook his head slowly. "I'll never understand you," he said with absolute conviction. His jaw tightened and he sat up suddenly, taking Harry by the side of the face and kissing him. The kiss was hard and desperate and Harry responded immediately, threading his arms around Draco's shoulders. They both fell back onto the bed with a thump.

.

Draco controlled the pace this time and Harry was perfectly content to let him, while trying his best to show he wasn't completely out of his depth. Draco soon had his robes and shirt off, pants drawn down, and was occupying himself with kissing his way down Harry's chest. Harry twinned his hands in Draco's hair and wondered, fleetingly, if Draco was actually going to…

Oh yes… yes he was. Harry nearly reared off the bed and Draco had to reach out to pin down his hips as he worked, doing things that Harry had literally only dreamed of with his lips and mouth. And tongue! God, that tongue was talented.

He lasted an embarrassingly short amount of time. He didn't mean to but he grabbed Draco's head as he came with a grunt, shoving his cock deep into his mouth, holding him there for a few seconds before he realized the other boy was trying to jerk his head back and quickly let him go to grip the bedspread instead.

"I'm sorry," he apologized breathlessly once Draco raised his head and Harry found that he could talk again. He rolled on his side, still gasping, but reached out and touched Draco's face. "I'm sorry, did I hurt you?"

Draco looked absolutely bewildered at that, brow knitting as he stared at Harry.

"I didn't mean to… do the head grab thing…" Harry continued, and made the hand motions, mortified.

The confused look faded from Draco's face to be replaced by dawning realization. Which, on Draco's face, was a bit of a scary thing. "You've never had that done to you before, have you," he said suddenly, his eyes bright.

Harry shifted uncomfortably. "Of course I have," he said quickly, too quickly, and Draco started to laugh.

He rolled over so that he was on top of Harry. "Never been shagged, Potter?" he said, his eyes glittering. "Went to save the world and forgot to get fucked ahead of time?"

Harry pulled away, flushing as he dumped Draco off of him. "It's not like I got a lot of opportunities during the last couple years, Malfoy," he snarked. "I was a bit busy."

"Oh! Oh right then, that's your excuse," Draco replied. "'bit busy'," he mimicked. "What, playing Quidditch?" and then he started to laugh again. Harry found himself fighting the urge to punch him. It was a bit disturbing seeing as he had just gotten a blow job from him, to want to hit him so quickly afterwards. He sat up and began to replace his pants with quick angry motions.

Draco quieted and a hand fell on his elbow. Harry shrugged it off, and Draco sat back. "Potter," he said, his voice serious. "Don't…" something his voice made Harry pause and turn back very reluctantly.

Draco sat in the middle of the bedspread, looking at him with an uncharacteristically unguarded expression on his face. "It's not something to be ashamed of," he said.

"Right. Sure," Harry was still pissed off, though the recent orgasm was helping to curb some of his anger. "Whatever, Malfoy," he muttered, then stopped replacing his clothes and sighed heavily. He really didn't want to leave, but he just hadn't hit that point in his life where he was okay being made fun of by Draco about his lack of sexual experiences. Which was saying a lot seeing as he just gained a couple more said sexual experiences from the same person. For a brief moment Harry wondered if perhaps he was wrong. Maybe this wasn't going to work after all and it'd just be an embarrassment for them both...

A hand fell on his elbow again, tugging gently, and Harry sighed again before turning back around with a scowl. Draco leaned in and kissed him, right in the middle of that ugly look.

The kiss was slow and sweet and almost apologetic. It also tasted faintly of Harry himself and Harry was surprised that he didn't find that thought all that repulsive... in fact it was a bit of a turn on. By the time Draco was done kissing him Harry had completely forgotten why he was upset in the first place and other parts of him were threatening to get very interested again.

Draco pulled away from him, grey eyes searching his. "You going to ask me about my… experiences, Potter?" he asked.

For some reason he looked completely serious and Harry wondered at that. Then somewhere in the back of his mind a warning went off and he gave Draco a suspicious look. "Do I want to know?" he asked.

Draco studied him for a long moment. "No," he replied, shaking his head as he leaned in to kiss Harry again.

.

Some unknown amount of time later they both laid back on the bed, exhausted but very sated.

Secretly Harry was glad that Draco had been okay with a hand job, though he had tried the oral thing. That had been an experience, especially since for one of the first times in his life Harry had found himself faced with something that intimidated him. Finding out you're a wizard at eleven and expected to die at eighteen tended to leave it so that nothing could faze him. Except, apparently, the prospect of sucking another man's dick.

However he was no coward and soldiered on. Draco was uncut, he had discovered, and not badly endowed either. Luckily the taste wasn't too different than his own he decided when he had licked at it, determined to return the favour. He did that for a while and Draco moaned appreciatively, then tugged him up to kiss him as he pulled him close to wank them both together again like he did back in the Potions classroom. It wasn't before long that Draco had come with a groan and a shudder and Harry followed for the second time that evening.

Which led them to this point now. They remained laying beside each other on the small bed for a long while, neither of them saying anything.

Finally Draco sighed. "It's late," he began.

Oh no… Harry knew where this was going. He also definitely didn't want to move… especially since his legs felt like they had been hit by a jelly-legs jinx.

"Can I…" Harry cleared his throat and said the next bit very quickly. "Stay here with you?" He had a feeling he was pushing it, especially when Draco turned his head and gave him a withering look. Harry flinched a bit and tried to look hopeful. He had just lost his virginity… well kind of - oral virginity at very least - and he didn't want to just run off…

Draco propped himself up on his elbows and peered down at him through his fringe of currently somewhat messy blond hair. "Won't your Weasley worry and fret over where you are?" he asked a bit meanly.

Harry blinked and stared at Draco like he was nuts. "Ginny and I haven't talked for over a month…" he began and Draco rolled his eyes.

"No, not your _**girlfriend**_, Potter," Draco interrupted, sounding disgusted.

Oh. OH. "Ron?" Harry got it. "Actually he spends the nights in Herm-"

"Stop." Draco said quickly, shutting his eyes and scrunching up his face in distaste.

"-ione's bedroom," Harry finished and Draco shot him a dirty look as he got off the bed, completely disregarding the fact that he was nude, and gestured for Harry to do the same. Harry hiked up his own trousers, got off the bed, and stared in wonder as Draco tapped the bed, then the empty one next to it. The two beds flew towards each other, breaking apart at the sides and then knitting together to make one large bed.

"Oh." Harry said, a bit surprised.

Draco smirked at him. "Not the first time I've had to do that," he said smugly and Harry stared at him mutely, embarrassed and more than a little jealous to think about Draco sleeping with anyone else.

Draco didn't seem to care as he climbed back into the bed, settling down on one half of it.

"That," he said pointing to the unoccupied side. "Is your side. Stay on it."

Harry stared at Draco for a long moment, then burst out laughing. Of course Draco would have terrible bed manners. He shook his head as he climbed back onto the bed. He laid there for a couple seconds then sat up, leaned over to Draco's side, threw his arm around him and pressed a quick kiss to his mouth. When he pulled away he grinned and Draco looked completely unimpressed.

Harry didn't care. He flopped back onto his side of the bed, turning his back on other boy. "G'night Malfoy," he said. He listened.

For a long moment there was no sound from the other side of the bed, and then he heard more Draco carefully lay down, pulling the blankets over himself, shifting until he was finally still.

"Good night, _Potter_," the words were muttered, almost angrily, but they were there. Harry smiled and closed his eyes.

…


End file.
